Page 113 of Oliver

Now, several hours later, I’ve set aside my most precious keepsakes. Somewhere along the way, we lost the guys who I assume are outside while we sit in the living room.

I’ve packed up my own things and what’s left are inside Dixie and my mom’s rooms. I’m not sure that I’m in the headspace for it but I’d like to go through it before tomorrow.

“She’s beautiful,” Willow says, placing the picture carefully in the pile.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. “She loved the sweater she’s wearing in that picture. My dad bought it for her.”

After a moment, I shake my head because I’ve been a selfish dick. I don’t know Willow all that well, but she and her parents suffered a loss. “How…how are you? I mean, after…”

Willow looks up, a shadow crossing her face before she says softly, “I’m okay. Some days are better than others.”

Maeve straightens, her eyes wide and Willow crosses the room to take her hand. The dichotomy between darkness and light is striking with their hair colors and I suspect personalities.

What’s more important though and fills me with shame is the ease with which Willow accepts Maeve, knowing her father killed her sister.

Thoughts of which bring me back to Mr. Cook. Maybe Mr. G didn’t actually kill her sister? Do the guys know?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and Maeve meets my gaze. My lip quivers and she pulls Willow with her.

Before I know it, I’m sandwiched between these two women and my heart warms as Maeve hugs me and Willow rests her head against my shoulder.

No words are spoken but I guess they don’t need to be. It’s a beautiful message that I hold to my heart as tears stream from my eyes.

Although I miss Dixie with every fiber of my being, I find solace in these two of whom I have no affiliation beyond the men in our lives.

“Are you okay?” Maeve asks softly and wiping my eyes, I say, “I don’t know.”

Maeve grabs my hand and I squeeze it gently before disentangling from them to stand.

When they follow me up the stairs and to my mom’s room, my heart thumps before settling into a peaceful rhythm.

Maybe I’ve found a few friends after all.

Chapter 35

Penny

“How about this?” Maeve asks, holding up another box of tin foil.

With a chuckle, I shake my head and she sets it aside. Although I’ve gotten a few puzzled looks, neither has asked and I’m sure at some point, I will explain my mom’s odd proclivities but right now, this knowledge between just her and me makes me feel closer to her than I have since she died.

“I think that's it,” I say, folding the last article of clothing I want to keep with me into a suitcase laid out on the bed.

“Now Dixie’s room,” I say and Maeve frowns.

My chest tightens as soon as we enter, and I exhale heavily. I saved this place for last. Not only do I not want to find anything more about Dixie’s dark adventures, but this is all too new and fresh. I haven’t properly grieved.

Willow stands at the threshold while Maeve spins in a circle. When she stops on Dixie’s dresser, I follow her gaze. Resting on top is a picture of the two of them.

“Do you want it?” I ask.

“Oh, well, I…” Maeve says.

“It’s fine. I have more.” I hand it to her and move to the drawers, opening and closing them with a weird efficiency. I want out of here as quickly as possible.

“Maeve?” Willow says.

“Hm?” Maeve murmurs from where she’s sitting on the bed. I don’t blame her. They were really close, and this must be like a punch to the face.

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