Twenty-One

The Aftermath

The day SNACC broke the news that Bigfoot was real, Fin was trying to teach a raven to play fetch. Again.

She held a camera lens between her fingers. The glass gleamed in the sunlight. “Lens,” said Fin. She tossed it into the soft overgrown grass of the big house’s backyard. “Fetch.”

Morri sat on a rusted wheelbarrow, grooming her feathers with lazy glee. So far she had fetched everything from River’s glasses—which hadn’t gone over well—to the forgotten quarter that Fin had lost in this very same lawn. She seemed to delight in retrieving anything that wasn’t the lens. “You need to offer her a whole egg,” said Eddie.

“She’s going to get spoiled,” said Fin.

“Can a raven get spoiled?” asked River. He sat on an old lawn chair, working on a book report. His notes kept rustling in the wind, and he’d weighed them down with a metal frog he’d found in Aunt Myrtle’s garden.

“Don’t feed the ravens for a week,” said Eddie, his face utterly impassive, “and find out.”

River frowned, like he knew Eddie was baiting him but didn’t quite know how.

It was the last day of spring break, and all of them had gathered in the big house’s backyard to finish up the last of their homework. Eddie was glumly planted in front of his math book, while Cedar put the finishing touches on a sketch for art class. She had spent several days working in Brewed Awakening to keep her parents from wondering why she had spent so much time at Fin’s house.

For the rest of spring break, River had been coming over. He said it was because he needed to know more about the magic if he was going to live in Aldermere, but Fin suspected it had something to do with the fact that she’d forced Eddie to give up the big house’s Wi-Fi password. And River was more tolerable these days. He wasn’t rude, and he never forgot Cedar’s name—which, Fin had to remind herself, hadn’t been his fault. He couldn’t have remembered Cedar until he believed in magic. And he had agreed not to mention anything about magic to his parents, under one condition.

“I’ll keep this town’s weird secrets. Just stop calling me River,” he said. “I hate my last name. Scott sounds normal, at least.”

“You know,” said Cedar thoughtfully. “Scott River is an actual river in California.”

“Yeah,” said Scott sourly. “I know. My parents did that on purpose.”

“Was that your parents’ original last name or did they change it?” asked Cedar.

Scott scowled. “My parents were hippies living in Mendocino before they had me. What do you think?” His gaze flicked over her. “And you’re one to talk, Cedar Carver.”

“Actually, my name was almost Cedar Espinoza,” she said, grinning. “But when they got married, my dad took my mom’s last name. She wrote books back then, so changing her name would’ve been confusing to her readers. Brand awareness and all.”

“But they named you after a tree,” said Scott.

“My dad likes trees,” said Cedar. “I was almost Holly.”

Scott threw a glance at Fin. “And what about you? Your mom into fishing or something?”

“Don’t look at me,” said Fin. “I’m named after our great-grandpa Finley.”

“How is it,” said Scott, as though every word pained him, “that Edward is the only one of us with a somewhat normal name?”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t remind me. My name’s so boring, it’s embarrassing.”

Mom came out of the cottage, holding a plate of sandwiches. She set them down on one of the lawn chairs, brushing away a bumblebee as it buzzed around the food. “Hey, kids,” she said. “How’s the last of the spring break homework? Did all of you save it for the last day?”

“I’m done,” said Fin, a bit smugly. “Just trying to teach Morri to fetch again.”

Mom cast a doubtful look at the raven on the wheelbarrow. “You . . . have fun with that.”

Eddie groaned. “Math. I hate math. Why’d I put it off?”

Cedar picked up a sandwich. “I finished my art project, so now I’m here for the food.”

“Well, I hope you like cheese and veggie, because there’s not a lot else in the fridge,” said Mom. “I need to go shopping soon. At least now I’ll have the time, since our most demanding guests are gone.” She let out a sigh. “They left a rather rude review of the inn online, saying they couldn’t ever get on the internet.”

“Hopefully they won’t come back,” said Fin.

Mom nodded, gave Fin’s shoulder a squeeze. It was then that Fin noticed Mom looked different. Her lipstick was a little darker and her fingernails were painted. Fin frowned at her. “Are you going to work?”

A faint flush suffused Mom’s cheeks. She reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, as if she needed something to do with her hands. “Ah—no. I’m going to the diner.”

Fin gaped at her. The diner had good food, but all the adults muttered about it being overpriced. Mom cooked or ate meals at the inn, where she was fed for free. Had something happened in the inn’s kitchens? “Is Mr. Madeira’s wife sick?” asked Fin. “Does he have to take care of her?” Guilt formed a familiar knot at the bottom of her stomach.

Mom shook her head. “Oh no. Nothing like that. I’m . . . meeting someone.”

That was when it clicked. Mom had taken care with her makeup and was wearing a nice skirt. She was going on a date. Fin sputtered out a laugh, realized that probably wasn’t the best response, and tried to keep a straight face. Mom didn’t date. She’d always said she was too busy.

“Do I look that ridiculous?” asked Mom, smiling herself.

“No, you look great,” answered Fin. “Who is it? If you say Mayor Downer, Aunt Myrtle might throw a fit.”

“I’m sure she would,” said Mom, laughing. “But no. I—I’m meeting Frank. If . . . I mean, are you okay with that?”

It shouldn’t have come as a complete surprise. The potted rhododendrons were sitting beside the cottage’s porch. But still there was a small voice in Fin that whispered that this was change, and change was bad and unknown and dangerous.

She tried her best to silence that voice. This was Mom. Who loved her and would always put her first, no matter what.

And Fin did like Frank. He was nice, fixed things, taught Eddie how to track through the woods, and he’d saved an abandoned ferret. She didn’t think he would ever be cruel.

“I’m fine with it,” said Fin.

“Good. I’ll see you later.” Mom dropped a kiss against Fin’s hair and waved goodbye to the other kids before walking across the lawn and vanishing around the big house.

Fin waited until she was gone before looking at the others. “Has anyone checked the SNACC website today?”

They had made sure at least one of them looked at the website every day, to see if the new episode had gone up.

“I can.” Scott dug his phone from his pocket.

“You think they’re going to come back?” asked Cedar. Morri had fluttered to her shoulder, eyeing the sandwich in Cedar’s hand. Cedar absentmindedly tore off a piece of crust and tossed it into the air. Morri grabbed it eagerly.

“I mean, Ryan said he wanted to,” said Fin. “But after their encounter with the bridge, who knows? Maybe they’re cursed, so that they’ll never find the town again.”

Scott sat up straighter. “Hey, it’s up!”

“What?” Fin stepped away from the plate of sandwiches, her hunger replaced by nerves.

“Give me a second.” Scott’s finger darted across the touch screen of his phone with ease, but he frowned at the phone. “There’s the episode and blog post . . . ah, yes. There are the pictures.”

He scrolled down, and Fin held her breath. Cedar’s fingers dug into her sandwich, leaving dents in the bread. Even Eddie was quiet.

“Okay,” said Scott, holding up the phone. “It’s . . . wow. It’s kind of terrible.”

Fin leaned in to look. Scott had blown the photo up so that it encompassed the whole phone screen.

There was a bright lens flare obscuring one corner of the picture—and as for the picture itself, Fin had to squint. It was a little blurry, as if Michael’s hands had been shaking when he took it. Brie stood there, with Fin kneeling beside her.

“It looks like they put swimming fins on a gopher,” said Cedar.

“It does,” said Eddie. “Everyone’s going to think they dressed up an otter.”

“None of the pictures show your face, Fin,” said Scott. “They’re all from the back. I can see your hair and your coat and that’s pretty much it.”

Some of Fin’s fears unwound. She’d been worrying a little over her face being splashed across the internet in connection with Aldermere and Bigfoot—especially if her dad was still looking for her and Mom. She closed her eyes for a moment, then said, “What else did they say?”

“I can’t tell much,” said Scott. “I have to keep refreshing the page.” He poked at his cell phone. “It keeps saying the server’s offline.”

“I told you,” said Fin. “They’re cursed by the toll bridge. Well, Ana and Ryan Bell are cursed. Michael is probably fine.”

“He quit,” said Scott, looking surprised. “I thought you saw. It went up on their social media feeds about two days after they left town. Said he wanted to pursue his dream career of filming nature documentaries in Australia.”

“Oh no,” said Cedar, looking both dismayed and amused. “I think I may have traumatized him.”

“No shadow monsters in Australia,” said Eddie. “Well, probably.”

“It all worked out,” said Cedar. “Brie’s back with her family, SNACC only has a few pictures that no one will believe, and Aldermere is safe.”

“Happy endings for all,” said Eddie. “Except for the math homework.” He plopped onto the ground, picking up his textbook with all the enthusiasm of Mom when she had to clean moldy food from the fridge.

Scott walked over to the tray of sandwiches, reaching for one. Fin followed him. Now that she was sure the footage wasn’t going to blow up across the internet, her appetite had returned. Scott picked up one sandwich for himself and held out another to Fin. She took it with a nod of thanks. “I’m glad it worked out,” said Scott. A flash of shame crossed his face. “I—I never really did apologize for what I did. I’m sorry, you know.”

She took a bite of sandwich so she wouldn’t have to answer right away. “Why’d you go to them?”

Scott sighed. “Because they looked like experts and that shadow thing was terrifying. You have to admit it. Also . . . I mean, they were offering five hundred dollars for information. I thought, maybe we could go home if I got that money.”

Fin winced a little. She understood the need for a home—it was why she’d worked so hard to protect Aldermere. “I get that.” She took another bite. “You want to go home?”

“I mean, I still think this town is weird.” Scott toyed with the edge of his sandwich. He pulled off a tiny bit of bread and tossed it into the air.

Morri caught it in midair, swooping by. Scott smiled at her.

“But there are upsides,” he admitted. They stood in silence for a few moments, watching as Morri devoured the bread.

“So,” said Fin. “I have to ask. How did the rivalry between you and Eddie start, anyways?”

“Eddie never told you?” asked Scott, surprised.

“He was always vague about it,” said Fin. “And Cedar said something about a spider.”

Scott blew out a breath. “It—it was in kindergarten.”

“Seriously?” said Fin. “Did he steal your favorite markers or something?”

Scott laughed and rubbed at the back of his head. “No. He . . . uh. He brought his mom’s tarot cards to school for show-and-tell. I told him magic wasn’t real and fortune-tellers were frauds.”

Fin shook her head, smiling despite herself. “Of course you did.”

“Well, as far as I knew, it was true.” Scott held out an arm, gesturing all around them. “How could I know magic was real? It’s not supposed to be. Which reminds me—if Bigfoot is real, what else is? The Loch Ness monster? Witches? That squirroose thing Edward was talking about?”

Morri alighted on Fin’s shoulder. Fin reached up, ruffling the soft feathers around the raven’s neck. Fin glanced toward Cedar; her shadow was gone. Which meant somewhere out in the woods, an inky mare would be galloping through the forest. In that same forest, a baby bigfoot would be with her family. And as for what else lived out there . . .

Fin reached into her coat pocket, her fingers tangling around the chain of the old locket. “Maybe we’ll find out.”