Page 69 of Buried Roots

“It’s better than I’d hoped.” I put my hands on my hips as I peer around, taking in the new crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, the freshly painted gray-blue walls, and now, the shiny new flooring.

Demon comes blasting through the door, his claws tapping on the fresh tiles as he leaves muddy prints in his wake. “Demon, no!” I cry out, trying to catch him, but he’s too fast. “How did he get in here?”

“Demon, halt!” Owen has his palm out and a miracle happens: Demonactuallyhalts, and without protest. “Good boy,” Owen says, pulling a treat from his pocket and feeding it to the little devil. “Now git home.” Owen points out the door, and Demon flies away.

I flutter out a breath. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Damn dog.” Owen groans as he takes the mop and cleans up Demon’s paw-work. When he’s finished, he pans the space again. “I’m going to miss this,” Owen says wistfully.

“That’s right.” The reminder of his deadline makes my stomach drop, which is why I’ve tried to push it out of my mind. “Tomorrow is your first day taking over the vet hospital.” And his last day of helping me.

“Yeah. It is.”

I nod, wanting to wish him well, but not ready to say those words just yet. It feels too much like goodbye.

As I bring the leftover tiles to the bedroom for pickup, I realize I stacked them too high, and it’s very heavy. As I bend over to set them down, some start to slide off. Owen rushes behind me and helps me balance the stack before we place them down together.

His body against me and his arms over mine affect me, but I fight to not let it show in my voice. “I took on more than I could handle. Thank you.” We both stand.

“You’re welcome.” Owen starts to move away but stops. Instead, he stands statue still behind me, his breath on my neck.

I missed this. So much. I miss him. I want to turn around. I want him to hold me like he’s always done. Iwillturn around.

But then he steps away, and my heart sinks like it’s tied to a cement block.

I wish I could take back all the things I said to him. But if life has taught me one thing, it’s that there are no do-overs. People like me don’t get second chances.

I catch my breath before facing him and smoothing my shirt. I want to say that I’m sorry, that I can’t bear for things to be this way between us. But when I meet Owen’s gaze, it’s clear he’s a million miles away. Then he says, “I’m gonna take off. I have to get ready for my first day on the job tomorrow.”

“Oh, right.” I force a chipper tone when I say, “Best of luck at the hospital. Although you don’t need luck.”

“Thank you.” His voice is strained. “And good luck finishing the house. You know I’m still here if you need anything.”

“I do know that.” I manage a smile, but it falls away. I swallow back the lump in my throat when I say, “Thanks for everything, Owen Brooks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He doesn’t say my full name, like always. Then he turns and walks away from me, all over again.

This time, it cuts me to the bone, and I deserve it.

25

The Code

Thesummerheatdriftsfrom July into August, and today’s the day. The appraiser from the secretary of state’s office said the house passed the preliminary inspection, so today, he’ll tour the house again and give us the final word on whether it’ll become a state tourist landmark. It’s a momentous day for me and the town of Violet Moon, and I can’t believe we finished all this in four weeks. It just goes to show what can happen when an entire town comes together.

I’m rushing to get all the last-minute stuff done. The polishing, the cabinet knob tightening, the cleaning of lingering construction dust, and all the other things on my extensive checklist. And that’s not even mentioning my Zoom call with the Kleins in ten minutes.

This past week, Owen hasn’t been around, as I’m sure he’s incredibly busy with his first week at the vet hospital. I didn’t call him for help—I know it was critical for him to focus on his new position.

To say I’ve missed him would be a gross understatement. But it’s good preparation for what’s coming, I guess. After I sign the papers on this house tomorrow, I’ve got my flight booked back to New York.

A little girl’s voice echoes from Bo’s office, and I freeze. Am I hearing things? It sounds like Trinity, but she wouldn’t have come here without permission.

Except yes, she would have.

When I hear the squeak of Bo’s office chair, I head downstairs and to the office where, indeed; I find Trinity… at Bo’s computer.

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