Page 71 of Dear Ripley

I truly hadn’t—because that would be beyond weird—but the truth of the matter was, Ripley’s favorite color changed often, almost with the seasons. So, even if I wanted to lure her back with my hair, I wouldn’t know which color it was supposed to be.

“It’s currently yellow,” Morgan said, the same cheeky tone in her voice.

“Morgan,” Ripley warned again, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

I was pretty sure yellow was my favorite right now too.

“Let’s focus on the issue,” Ripley continued, very carefully not looking at me. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

“No,” Harlow insisted. “I’m not running, hiding, or letting her win.”

“We can’t just leave you out here, waiting for her.”

“We’re not going to,” Harlow said. Something serene had come over her and, no matter how manipulative Ellie could be—and I no longer doubted it would be a lot—I believed Harlow was going to win. “We’re going to come up with a plan. We’re going to go to her. And I’m going to tell her to get out of my town, and my life.”

Morgan whooped through a mouthful of doughnut. Ripley reached into her box, taking one for herself, clearly needing the sugar in all of the excitement.

“Okay,” she said carefully. “What do you suggest?”

“Maybe you could tell her you tried to deliver the flowers, but I’ve gone, left Jackson Point.”

“Do you think she’s going to buy that?” I asked, skeptical. If she was following Harlow, she could have eyes on her constantly. For all we knew, she could be watching right now. A shiver ran up my spine.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Harlow shrugged. “But at least it will give us some indication of how closely she’s watching me, and what her next move would be.”

“And what’s your plan for the showdown?” Morgan asked, as if this whole thing were some cowboy western.

“Get to her before she gets to me. Surprise her a little bit. And don’t be alone when it happens.”

“We’re going to need you not to go back to your parents’, then,” Ripley pointed out. “Not if you want her to believe you’re not there. I think it’s a fair bet she’s probably watching that place, at the very least.”

“Good point,” Morgan agreed. “You can stay at mine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I can just go to Alicia’s,” Harlow insisted.

Morgan shook her head. “Too risky. Ellie would look there. She clearly knows about the three of you, but there’s no reason she’d be watching me. As influential as I have been in Alicia’s life, I somehow get the feeling you wouldn’t have been talking about me nearly as much as you would Ripley. My place is the safest.”

“Yeah, and then maybe I can go home, finally,” Ripley said, rolling her eyes at Morgan.

I looked between them. “You’ve been staying at Morgan’s?”

I tried not to think about the look Ripley gave me, but I knew it was burrowing into my heart and my mind and would haunt me at night.

“Yeah,” Ripley said, a slight smirk playing around her lips.

Damn her.

“I needed her help controlling… something,” Morgan said, waving her chocolate-coated doughnut around.

Ripley snorted. “Like a teenager with no idea what’s good for them.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault.”

“Whose fault is it then?”

I had no idea what was going on, but I couldn’t deny that I loved this. The four of us together, Ripley and Morgan arguing. It was so familiar and so different at the same time. Somehow both better and worse than before.

“What are you two talking about?” Harlow finally insisted.

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