Page 48 of Hidden Memories

“Of course.”

She reaches under the cash register and hands me a tablet. I’m surprised she has a digital system to be honest.

Julia reads my mind. “I know what you’re thinking. And yes, I miss my trusty old clipboard and pen, but Enzo and Rio keep trying to digitize things around here. It’s straightforward. If I can do it, someone half my age can.”

She opens the inventory app and shows me how to mark the totals, then we all set off to our tasks. Today brings a sense of ease as if we’ve been here for years. Theo looking relaxed, dangling his legs on the tall stool and sipping his hot chocolate.

I could get used to this town.

If only I didn’t have the lingering fear of running into Santi every time I turn a corner.

When I head outside, I pass half of Luis, head under the hood of a beat-up truck, swearing under his breath in Spanish. Instead of saying something, I leave him to it. I get the impression he’s had this truck so long it’s like he’s having a lover’s spat.

I’m halfway across the gravel lot to the storage buildingwhen I see it—a pile of tools spilled out near the door. It’s odd the door is ajar, seeing as Heritage isn’t open yet and Julia seems to have only been inside chatting to Luis.

A rake, a pitchfork, and a couple of feed buckets lie scattered just inside the doorjamb like someone dropped them in a hurry. I glance around, but no one’s nearby.

“Strange,” I mutter to myself. Julia seems to run a tight ship. She wouldn’t leave tools lying around like this.

I step just inside the storage building and kneel to gather them up, my fingers brushing the wooden handle of the rake when something sharp catches my eye. A piece of wire— thin, nearly invisible—stretched taut across the concrete floor just a few inches above the ground. And it’s attached to the very rake I’m picking up.

My stomach drops, but before I can fully process what’s happening, a sudden sound—a creak, a groan—comes from above. I look up just in time to see a piece of wood under something heavy teetering on the edge. The wire is attached to the rake, and I’m pulling the wood piece from above.

My instincts kick in, and I try to move, but I’m too late.

A bag of feed that was balanced on the wood drops. I throw up my hands to shield my head, but the twenty-pound bag slams into my arm. Pain shoots through my wrist, white-hot and immediate. The force knocks me backward, and I land hard on the concrete, gasping, the wind knocked out of me.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at the metal ceiling, my heart hammering. What the hell just happened?

The wire. The tools. The bag.

None of this feels like an accident.

Who would have done this? Is someone out to get Julia? Or… me?

I finally manage to sit up, dizzy andconfused. My wrist is excruciating to move, and I suck in a sharp breath. Shit. I hope to God it’s not broken.

“Kat!” Luis’ voice cuts through the haze, his footsteps pounding toward me. “What happened?”

I cradle my wrist against my chest, wincing. “The loft… something fell.”

Luis crouches beside me, scanning the scene. His gaze lands on the wire; his expression darkens. “What’s all this…?”

My voice is shaky. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s get you inside,” he interrupts, helping me to my feet. “We’ll talk after we get you looked at.”

I nod, but the unease lingers. I don’t know who it was meant for, but thank God it was me and not Theo or Julia.

As Luis guides me toward the store, I can’t shake the feeling that someone wanted this to happen. And then an eerie thought crosses my mind. Maybe it was the same someone who broke into our house—maybe they weren’t finished with what they started.

Chapter Twelve

PRESENT

Owenand I lean against the fence, watching two of my racehorses barrel down the track. Their muscles ripple with every stride, dirt flying up behind them. Owen’s practically vibrating with excitement, gripping the top rail. Only when we’re doing things with the horses do I see him like this; he forgets the rest of the world exists, his problems, even his past has no place here. He’s just a young boy, enjoying his life.

I see myself in him in times like these.

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