Page 52 of Without a Trace
And just like always, he left.
And just like always, I stood there pretending it didn’t wreck me.
Scarlett
It was quieter on the way back.
The sun was gone, the sky bruised violet and navy. The water shimmered dark and endless beside us. No one said much. Maybe because the music had died. Maybe because we’d all said too much already.
Kane drove the boat, sober enough to steer, buzzed enough to hum some off-key melody under his breath.
I sat on the edge bench, towel draped over my legs, the lake breeze biting against my skin. My thoughts worse.
Alden sat across from me, one arm thrown over the back of the seat. His hair messy, cheeks still flushed from the night. He looked relaxed. Like none of this touched him.
“Cold?” he asked, voice softer than usual.
I shrugged and he tossed me a hoodie. “You’re not gonna impress anyone if you freeze to death, Love.”
I slipped it on without thanking him. He didn’t seem to mind.
Trace stood near the back of the boat, scrolling on his phone. Wind pushed through his dark waves, tousling them across his forehead.
His gaze cut to mine—fast, sharp, then gone again. Like he couldn’t help it. We were always doing this—me, him, catching glimpses of each other ignoring this impossible thread pulling between us.
Sloane was curled up near the bow with Lena beside her, half-asleep and murmuring about snacks. Rhett leaned his head back, eyes closed, probably pretending this was all normal.
Alden stretched his legs, nudging mine lightly with his foot. “You alright?”
“Peachy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Liar.”
I glanced away. “Aren’t we all?”
He was quiet for a beat. Then sighed. “You ever think about how we all kind of… chose this? This mess?”
I looked at him, surprised.
“I mean, it’s not like anyone dragged us here. We ran straight into it.”
“Some of us were chased,” I said.
Alden nodded. “Still ran.”
That sat heavy between us.
Trace moved—subtle, but protective—stepping between us and the back edge of the boat, as if shielding the group from something. Or maybe just shielding me from Alden’s words.
It was dumb. Probably nothing. But it hit me anyway.
By the time we pulled up to the dock, the air had shifted. Something felt final.
We climbed off in slow motion. Kane tied off the boat. Sloane complained about her legs being numb. Lena offered to help clean up. Rhett said something about a headache and wandered toward the house.
Alden stayed close.
Trace didn’t.
