Page 19 of Sage Haven
Like sunlight finding all the cracks in my armor, no matter how carefully I’d patched them. She dragged me out of my shell with a force I couldn’t fight—not really.
Her energy was relentless.
Her kindness was disarming.
I found myself saying yes to things I never would have before.
Concerts that left my ears ringing and my lungs sore from screaming.
Late-night drives with no destination, just music blasting from the speakers and the wind tangling our hair.
Lazy Sunday mornings curled up on her couch, laughing until our ribs ached at terrible movies that made no sense but felt like home.
She was a whirlwind I didn’t realize I needed until I was already caught in it.
And when I wasn’t with her, my old routine was still there—waiting.
But it felt different now.
Less like survival.
More like something I could return to when I needed to steady myself and needed space to breathe.
Sam became a regular at my work.
I pretended not to notice when she started timing her visits to match my shifts.
But I noticed.
One afternoon, she showed up at the counter, her usual grin firmly in place but with something sharper lurking behind it.
“Sage,” she said, leaning in dramatically. “I need a double hitter fix today. Caffeine. Now.”
I raised a brow, already amused.
“What happened?” I asked as I grabbed a cup and marked her order.
She sighed—long and theatrical—and rolled her eyes, as she began, “One of the partners at my firm got caught embezzling money and guess who gets to clean it all up?”
She jabbed a finger at herself.
I smirked, “Wow. What a scandal.”
“Truly,” she agreed, her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile.
Then, just as quickly, her face lit up again.
“Oh! Sage, I almost forgot, you have to come to the Sacrifice Tomorrow Festival. It is happening tonight!”
I blinked. “Sacrifice Tomorrow?” I repeated. “That sounds… a little cult-y.”
She laughed, bright and unbothered. “I promise, it’s not! It’s called that because it starts at sunset and goes until sunrise. Everyone in town comes out for it. There’s music, dancing, food trucks, bonfires. It’s a tradition, so I guess maybe it is a little cult-y.”
She winked before continuing, “Trust me. You’ll love it.”
I hesitated.
I always hesitated.
