Page 2 of My Secret Santa Clayton

“Fine,” she clipped out, her gaze dropping to the ground before finding mine again. It was hard to read her, but there was no missing the edge in her voice—like she'd fought wars I knew nothing about.

She wasn’t the only one.

“Good,” I said, nodding. I wondered if she'd found whatever dream she'd been chasing when she left all those years ago, if she'd proven everyone wrong. Or right.

“Thanks,” she said, finally, her voice steadier. “For, uh, checking on me. I can take it from here.”

“Grace, wait—” I started.

But she was already turning the bend, disappearing into the fog.

My heart was doing this weird stuttering thing, tripping over itself trying to keep up with the rush of blood in my veins. A million questions buzzed in my head, each one louder than the last. What was Grace doing here, back in Silver Ridge? This place was supposed to be in her rearview mirror.

So what was she doing on a trail where most folks would fear to tread alone, especially in winter?

The last time I’d seen her face-to-face, we were both nursing fresh wounds, words we couldn't take back. Now, she wouldn’t even acknowledge me.

“Come on, Bear,” I muttered, and my dog looked up at me, his tongue lolling. “Let’s see what she was running from.”

I jogged on, the cold air burning my lungs, but Grace's fear-stricken face wouldn’t leave the back of my mind. My gut toldme that look in Grace's eyes was genuine terror, not just some overactive imagination.

We covered half a mile before I spotted them—footprints. They were pressed into the slushy snow, a mix of mud and ice outlining their shape. Bear sniffed around, his tail dropping as if he sensed something too.

“Stay close,” I murmured, eyeing the tracks. I dropped to one knee for a better look. There was Grace's small footprint, and then another set—a man's boots, large and deep.

Fuck.

Bear growled softly, hackles rising, and that clinched it for me. This wasn’t right.

Maybe it was a hiker…maybe. But I didn’t like this one bit.

“Let's head back,” I said, more to myself than Bear. Even if I couldn’t see any real evidence, I still felt like something was off.

And Grace was smack in the middle of it all.

TWO

Grace

Just a false alarm…right?

I ran the rest of the way home, back to the old house I’d shared with my sister and parents growing up on the edge of Whispering Pines Forest. I couldn’t wait to get back inside to safety—or at least, perceived safety.

I swung my front gate open, the creak making me jump. My heart was still racing, not from the run but from the shadows that felt all too close, even in broad daylight. I fished out my phone and punched in my editor Rob's number, needing to hear something—anything—to drown out the echo of unseen footsteps from the woods.

“Rob? It's Grace.”

“Grace! Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m just…” I paused outside the front door, chewing on my dry lips. “Feeling a little trapped here. Any updates?”

“Not right now,” Rob replied. “You're doing good, just keep laying low.”

“Rob, I really think this story is too important to?—”

“Listen, you're safe there and it’s my job to take care of this,” he said. “I can’t have my reporters taking risks like you did. Yougot out, remember? Just keep your head down and let this blow over.”

“Keep my head down…yeah, sure,” I said. I peeked through the window in the front door, finding my sister Mariah working at the small dining room table. “I’m just worried about our security here. My sister is pregnant. Maybe I should skip town, go somewhere else…”

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