Page 65 of The Words We Lost

What leads?

I worry my bottom lip, trying to think of a way to spin the truth in my favor. The truth being that there are only two places left on my list to search before I’m out of ideas and back at ground zero again.

Ingrid

Two promising locations.

There’s a long pause.

SaBrina

Where specifically, and who told you they were promising?

I frown at the screen. Why does it matter to her where or who tipped me off? It isn’t like SaBrina knows this town or any of Cece’s family members other than by name. Then again, she had been the one to send me on this mission, just like I’d been the one who’d begged her for a chance to redeem myself as a reputable editor. So of course she’s micromanaging me, why would I expect anything less?

Ingrid

A garage and a storage unit. Cecelia’s mom encouraged me to look there.

SaBrina

Is that all? No other updates to report?

I crinkle my brow and reread the exchange over before replying.

Ingrid

That’s all for now.

To drown out the fear building inside me at the thought of what SaBrina could do to my professional reputation after she fires me for non-delivery, I pop in my earbuds, crank up my workout playlist, and tackle Cece’s garage as if I’ve been commissioned to do so under penalty of death. Not too far from the truth. SaBrina is hardly a lightweight when it comes to communicating her demands.

Much like inside Cece’s cottage, the garage is full of books. Only these books are tucked inside boxes marked either withTo BeDonatedorFor Storage Unit. The heavy content explains why the boxes are not stacked but shoved against the perimeter of the garage walls.

As I work my way through them, my gaze continually catches on the seafoam bike charging in the outlet, stirring up the mass of indistinguishable emotions I’ve been failing to sort since I rode back to the cottage with Joel yesterday. He hadn’t asked to come inside or even alluded to a follow-up conversation. He’d simply plugged in my bike and said he’d call me later.

I’d watched him leave with a substantial question mark hovering above my heart, knowing we both needed time to process what had just happened at the base of the lighthouse. It was clear neither of us had planned or expected it, and yet ... it was also clear there had been a significant shift in us both because of it.

I pause my playlist on my favorite NF song and pull my phone from my pocket to check the time. Five missed notifications are waiting for me. All from Joel. My stomach muscles constrict as I click into his text thread and then immediately relax on an exhale.

Joel

So you know how you like dogs???

Missed call.

Joel

Okay, so that was a poor lead-in. How about: What would you say to dog sitting for a few hours this afternoon???

Missed call.

Missed call.

I check the timestamp on his last message—sent seventeen minutes ago. I don’t have to think about my answer for longer than two seconds, seeing as there’s no actual choice to be made between digging through dusty boxes in a garage or playing with a puppy. It’s the easiest decision I’ve made since I arrived in town.

Ingrid

Hey, sorry I missed you. Happy to take Rontu for the day. Do you think he’ll fit in the bike basket? I can be there in thirty or so.

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