When I reached into my work locker, I found a small note written in clean handwriting.
Tomorrow night. Ten o’clock. Debrief. Two miles south of your window.
—R
I would never be ready to go back to Ironbark, but this was all happening so fast.
Not to mention the feeling in my chest that wasn’t going away.
Madeline loved Sam. The words ran through my mind on a constant loop, and they stuck in my throat like a pill I couldn’t swallow all the way. That was why she was out of her cell. Sam let her out because he was trying to save her. I thought I was feeling something like the Pull—something starting in my chest, but all I had to compare it to was what I felt from Samira in the drift. This was not quite that, but still a dull ache that got worse when I thought about Logan.
There was a thought in my mind. Something I was thinking but didn’t tell anyone, not even Rory. And she’d listened to the whole story, even though it took me about an hour to tell it, start to finish. She was calm. Didn’t completely freak when I told her about the Haunt, though she looked scared.
The only thing I left out was the deal I’d made. I just told her that Railius let us go.
I kept the deal I’d made to myself. I didn’t want her to carry that burden. It wasn’t hers to bear.
But there was a way out of this mess, and I nursed the beginnings of a plan throughout the day. It grew stronger, and by last class, I’d decided to do it. I couldn’t ask anyone for advice because no one else would understand.
Mal’s went by fast, but my eyes kept jerking up every time the bell above the front door rang. It was a slow night, but every time I walked past the booth where Logan had sat, I felt like I was going to throw up. Not because of the Pull or anything. But because it was hard to believe that life could be that good three days ago and like this now.
It was empty an hour before closing, so Rory and I broke off bits of the last of the muffins in the glass pastry case and threw them across the counter, trying to catch them in each other’s mouths.
Mal chastised us, but then Rory held up a piece of one of our blueberry streusel muffins, and he opened his mouth. She nailed it on the first try.
We talked about next week’s shift, and I fought with Rory over the best ones.
I don’t know why I did that. Old time’s sake, I guess.
I wouldn’t be there next week.