Page 42 of Splintered Memories
She was unusually quiet as we ordered food from several different food trucks and sat at an empty picnic table. Darkness came on fast, but the park was adequately illuminated with all the different lights.
I did a once-over of our surroundings, noting the exits and the people closest to us. I made sure to pick the picnic table that butted up against the back of a food truck. No one could sneak attack from behind us. I had sent my team home earlier, but I wasn’t too worried. The town had some officers surrounding the park, and I doubted anyone was going to try to snipe her in the darkness. Still, I was vigilant. Anything could happen at any moment.
The food was delicious. One more of my favorite things about town events. The food trucks never disappointed. The two of us ate in mostly silence. Emersyn seemed to be taking everything in and watching the festival unfold around us. Children and teenagers and plenty of adultswalked around, playing the carnival games. A live band played music on the other side of the park at the pavilion. Of course, crowds of people milled around the bonfires, roasting marshmallows and sipping hot chocolate from the stands set up around the fires. Some kids were running around with sparklers in their hands.
“Emberlight used to be one of Thea’s favorite town events,” I said randomly. Maybe it wasn’t quite out of the blue, considering everything around us made me think of my sister, made me feel her. A heaviness settled on my chest, a familiar aching sadness that I knew well. But there was also something else, something alongside the grief that I’d learned to cherish—gratefulness.
I was thankful for the memories I had of my sister. I was privileged to have known her.
Emersyn’s arm brushed mine as she reached for her bottle of water and took a drink. She swallowed, her eyes focused on something far away.
“Delainey really liked Thea,” she said softly.
I stiffened. I had never heard her say the name of her sister. She’d never mentioned her in passing or acknowledged that she’d had a sister. Of course, I’d known Delainey. She and Thea had lived together in college. They’d died together there.
My chin dipped in a nod. “I only met Delainey a couple times, but she was always very kind. A bit sassy, but maybe all college girls are.”
The corner of Emersyn’s lip twitched. “Oh, she was definitely sassy.” Her eyes finally flicked to mine. “Who do you think I learned it from?”
My grin widened. “I just assumed you were born with it.”
Emersyn huffed, picking at her mostly eaten food.
So many questions flitted through my mind. We had spent over two weeks living in the same house, and yet I barely knew anything about her. She never spoke about her past. I never asked her, because she had never given any indication she was comfortable talking about it. But something felt different now.
“Do you want to sit by the fire?” I asked tentatively. “When you’re done eating, of course.”
“I’m done.” She stood without another word and gathered her trash to throw in the bin.
I followed suit, and then we meandered toward the bonfire. Three of them were set up along the perimeter of the river. It was so dark that the water was nothing but the sparkling reflection of the flames and the park lights.
We found an empty bench near the middle bonfire. Our backs faced the river, a strategic choice on my part, but Emersyn didn’t complain.
The flames were near scalding against my skin as we settled on the bench, but the icy wind coming off the river calmed the heat.
Emersyn tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket and glanced up at the sky. The stars twinkled in the inky blackness above us. The noises of the crowd and carnival games were muffled here, drowned out by the roar of flames, crackling of wood, and the lapping river behind us.
She and I sat there for a long while, heads tilted toward the sky as we watched the stars. There had always been something about the silences between us. They were so…comfortable. As if neither of us had to say anything to know what the other was thinking. It felt as if we had always known each other, in a way.
I glanced down at her. Her hands were out of her pockets now, her palms pressed against the bench as she leaned back and gazed upward. Her hand was so close to me, a hair length from brushing the outside of my thigh.
“You’re staring, Ramsey,” Emersyn said without looking away from the sky.
I couldn’t stop the shy curl of my lip. “Can you blame me?”
She rolled her lips. I wondered whether the blush on her cheeks was from the heat of the bonfire or something else.
“You seem…happy,” I continued.
She still didn’t look at me as she said, “Emberlight is my favorite too.”
My heart stirred, skittering against my ribs in a pleasant way.
I continued to stare at her, unashamed. Unabashed. I wanted to burn this memory of her inside my brain forever. The way the firelight danced off her glossy auburn hair, the way the stars danced in her eyes. She was breathtaking.
“I never thanked you,” she said, her voice a ghost of a whisper.
My brows bunched. “Thanked me for what?”
