Page 118 of Gilded Saint

“I know you do.”

“I hope they can forgive me.”

“They will. They’re going to be thrilled to have you home.”

Between the houses, a view of the mountains peeps through, and a purple haze colors the dips and valleys beyond. A tiny, bright light twinkles and disappears.

“It’s a firefly,” I say, pointing to the gold pinprick. Back home, we used to have an abundance of fireflies in early summer. Beneath a tree, where the shadow is darkest, another light shines and quickly disappears.

Headlights beam down the street, approaching us. The car slows and turns into his sister’s driveway.

“You ready?” I ask, reaching for the passenger door handle.

Sam squeezes my hand. “Not yet.”

Another car turns onto the street and pulls up beside the other vehicle.

I watch Sam closely. His attention remains fixed on the driveway. The driver of the first car walks around the front and opens the passenger door.

A very pregnant woman with dark, wavy hair, presumably Sage, takes the hand of the man who came around to her door. She’s smiling widely.

“Is that Knox and Sage?” I ask.

Sam’s transfixed by the scene and gives an almost imperceptible nod.

The back of the vehicle pops open, and I assume Knox is holding a set of keys that allowed him to do that since he’s at the front of the vehicle. The back is filled with boxes and bows.

A tall, thin woman with dark, straight hair, presumably Sloane, exits the other car. The driver of her car gets out after she’s already walked away. He’s a tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy blond hair.

“I’ll empty the car. You guys—” The man stops speaking the second he notices us sitting in the vehicle. Sam parked in front of the neighbor’s house, but we’re not far away.

“I think he’s spotted us,” I whisper.

“Sage, why don’t the two of you go on inside?” Knox says.

“I don’t mind helping,” Sloane says, oblivious to Knox’s concerns, putting her arms around a brown cardboard box at the back of the vehicle.

The other man, presumably Sloane’s husband, Max, approaches and says something in her ear. She immediately releases the box and rushes to her sister’s side, taking her elbow and guiding her into the house.

“I’m fine,” Sage says loudly enough for her voice to carry across the lawn.

The screen door creaks and closes behind the two women, and the two men stand side by side, squinting at our vehicle.

“Can we help you?” one of them asks.

“Stay here,” Sam says to me.

He exits the car, and Knox stills. From inside the car, it’s as if Knox’s color blanches and his mouth opens slightly. Max’s expression is unreadable.

Sam approaches, hands out to his side like the two men have guns pointed at him, but they don’t. They’re just staring.

“A lot of shit’s gone down,” Sam says. “But I’m back.”

“Holy shit.” Knox says with a trace of derision blended with incredulity. “Sage always said—how the fuck? I saw it. I saw the explosion.”

“Magic,” Sam answers. His back is to me, but he sounds cautious.

“Who are you working for?” Knox asks. Max remains silent, watching. “Not the Navy. CIA?”

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