Page 87 of Our Darkest Summer
I pushed my chair back, exhaling. “It’s okay,” I murmured, more so to convince myself than anyone else. “We should rearrange everything we know again. There are a few things I want to add to my notes.”
My gaze flickered to the ring on the stone counter before I turned and hurried into the living room. I grabbed my notes off the coffee table, where I left them two nights ago, and rushedback to the kitchen. Kevin and Connor leaned closer, watching as my pen moved on the paper.
I tapped the pen against the page, staring at the last word.Hyacinth.
“That word’s been bugging me,” I muttered under my breath. Thomas leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his pasta momentarily forgotten.
“Even if she went into town and bought flowers, she came home,” he said. “The flowers were there. And so was her car… it might have been just a passing thought.”
I shook my head, frowning. “No. Ava told us Lizzie said it in a way that it stayed with her… it has to mean something.”
I stared at the word again, the loops of my handwriting twisting into the page. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I had seen it somewhere before. My fingers tightened around the pen. The wordHyacinthscratched at something deep in my brain. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. It was familiar. Too familiar.
And then?—
A jolt ran through me. I grabbed my phone, typing fast. The search results loaded, filling the screen with old articles. I scrolled, scanning quickly, until I found it.
My pulse stuttered, my fingers tightening around the phone. The words blurred for a second, my breath coming too fast.
“Look.” My voice came out quieter than I intended, but Connor and Kevin had already leaned in. Thomas stepped behind me, peering over my shoulder, his fingertips ghosting over my waist as he leaned on my chair.
I zoomed in, the headline bold against the screen.
“Hyacinth,” Connor repeated out loud.
A heavy silence settled over the kitchen.
Thomas was already moving, switching off the stove with a click, his features sharp with concentration. He disappeared into the hallway, and a moment later, returned with his laptop. The screen glowed as he typed fast, searching for the name.
The first few minutes, nothing. No direct results. No family history. No trace of her anywhere.
Then, finally?—
One blurry picture.
The title above it was eerily similar to the one in the article:Bellford Firefighter’s Widow Breaks Down After The Incident.
Thomas clicked on the link. Nothing. So he zoomed in, making the photo even more blurry, yet I couldn’t help but feel like I knew her. Kevin stiffened beside me, his breath hitching.
“I know her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
My gaze snapped to him. “You do?”
Kevin nodded slowly, his eyes still locked onto the laptop screen, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Thomas leaned in. “Can you take us to her?”
Kevin’s fingers twitched against the table. He hesitated. Then, he shook his head. Connor and I exchanged a confused look.
“Kev?” he prompted, nervously playing with the blond hair on his arm.
My pulse ticked faster.
Kevin’s throat bobbed, his brows knitting. “I can’t,” he finally said, his voice edged with something between disbelief and confusion. “She’s dead.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kinsley
