Sunday morning
The flames had whined like a jet’s engine, the heat so intense Leyna imagined blisters erupting on her skin, but eventually, the fire raced past them. Rescuers found Leyna, Grace, and Ellie in the nearly dry creek, where enough water flowed to allow them to wet their shirts, to cover their mouths. But what had saved them wasn’t the water but the brush, too sparse to keep the fire’s interest. The flames had flashed across the ground toward the trees on the ridge, leaving behind ash, a scorched field, and the three of them somehow alive. When Ellie was lifted up and wrapped in a fire blanket, she held tightly to her mom’s hand, and Grace held to Leyna’s just as fiercely.
What the economic crisis and Rocky’s poor judgment had started decades before, the wildfire finished. Nothing remained of Ridgepoint Ranch except Adam’s bones. Those were still there, buried at the edge of the burn scar. For a while longer, anyway. Leyna doubted Olivia would wait until the land inevitably hit the market and some new developer brought in bulldozers and excavators. She’d waited sixteen years to bury her son properly. She wouldn’t wait much longer, especially since she’d been arrested; she’d want to see Meredith punished too, despite how she’d saved Thea. The habit of hating each other was too deeply ingrained.
Everyone but Richard had survived, though with Meredith concealing Adam’s death and Olivia kidnapping Ellie, prison looked likely for both of them. Olivia had already talked with Dominic about getting custody of Thea, and the girl had Rocky too. Meredith had volunteered to watch Goose until everyone got settled. The damn dog needs some stability, she’d said. Leyna’s apartment was going to feel much smaller for a while.
It was Dominic’s tibia, the larger of the lower-leg bones, that had been broken. Above the ankle and below the knee, according to the orthopedic surgeon who’d put in the screws that would keep the pieces aligned while he healed. Dom’s leg would be immobilized in a cast for a few weeks, but the worst of his injuries couldn’t be fixed with screws or fiberglass.
In the dim lighting of the hospital room, Leyna rested her hand on his. He tried to smile, but the pain corrupted it.
“Thanks for saving me.” He slurred the words, as if his tongue were wrapped in the same cast as his leg.
“Richard helped.”
His face clouded at the mention of his father. “I’m not just talking about the leg.”
He looked at her through a haze of painkillers, but Leyna saw herself more clearly. She’d been stuck in her vendetta against Adam. Before she’d left at eighteen, how many times had she walked past his grave, hating him?
“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said. “And about Adam.”
“I am too.” His voice broke, and she could feel him fading.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.” I won’t screw it up this time.
“Stalker.” Then, his eyes hooded and slipping out of focus, he said, “I think I might love you, Leyna Clarke.”
It was probably the painkillers talking, but she leaned in and kissed his forehead.
“I think I might love you too.” When she pulled away, he was already asleep. She hoped the medication prevented dreams. Dominic had lost so much, she couldn’t imagine that any dreams would offer him comfort.
Or maybe she was wrong. In sleep, the strain of his grief and physical pain faded from his face, and she imagined him lost in a happier time. Adam on that skateboard in the minutes before he fell—beaming, free, alive—or the four of them exploring the woods before it all burned.
Leyna found Grace in the hospital cafeteria. The youth center where Dominic worked had dropped off new clothes that morning after they’d both been discharged, and Leyna smiled. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Grace in a pair of sweatpants.
Grace gestured at a paper cup on the table in front of her. “I was going to order a coffee for you too, but I didn’t know how you took it.”
Of course she didn’t. This version of Grace didn’t know this Leyna at all.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“How about raspberry tea, then? You used to love that.”
Tears pricked her eyes that Grace remembered, but she shook her head.
“Something to eat? They had some cinnamon walnut croissants in the case.”
Leyna realized Grace needed to do this, so she nodded. “That would be great. Thanks.”
She watched Grace as she moved to the counter and ordered the pastry. When she bent her head to get her card from her purse, Leyna felt a pang at the slope of her neck. She swiped at her eyes and dropped her gaze to the tabletop, studied the speckles in the plastic as intently as if she were reading one of her favorite books.
Back at the table, Grace set two croissants and a cup of tea between them, and the silence grew heavy until Leyna asked, “How’s Ellie?”
“Not good—not yet—but she’s alive. Thank you.” She paused. “How’s Dom?”
“He won’t be home for at least another couple of days,” Leyna said, “but he’s improving.”
Leyna tore off a piece of the croissant, searching for a way to start the harder part of the conversation. Grace beat her to it.
“I found out I was pregnant at the start of summer break,” she said. “I didn’t tell anyone, not even Adam. I couldn’t. Could you imagine Mom’s reaction? Things were always complicated between us, and that”—she shook her head—“Mom wouldn’t have understood. Too much shit had happened between us.”
You’re too much alike, Leyna thought but didn’t dare say. She didn’t know if Grace and their mom would ever find their way back to each other, but maybe one day they’d recognize what had driven them apart. Leyna dropped the piece of croissant she’d been holding and pushed the pastry away. She wasn’t hungry, and she’d spent far too many years feeding her grief.
“It was hard. That year… I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid to eat because when I ate I threw up, and what if Mom suspected the reason for that? Besides, I couldn’t allow myself to gain weight. Then Mom would definitely know. If there was one thing she always noticed, it was when one of us put on a few pounds.”
Grace picked at her own croissant, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before resuming her story. Had she practiced it as often as Leyna had practiced her own questions?
“As soon as the weather started to turn, I broke out the layered tops, oversize coats, loose sweaters. Stopped using the bathroom when you or Mom were around. I started wearing more makeup, hats, large earrings. Anything to distract from my stomach.” She paused, glancing down. “Until I couldn’t. One morning I woke up and it was just”—she made a gesture indicating a baby bump—“there. I know it didn’t really happen overnight, but I swear it felt like one day I went from not being able to button my jeans to not being able to zip them.”
When Dominic had shared the theory, Leyna was certain Grace couldn’t have been pregnant because they’d shared a bathroom, and she’d seen Grace undress in the days leading up to her disappearance. But she’d never noticed how Grace hid from her when her belly started to swell the previous fall.
“I had already stopped having sex with Adam, of course—too busy, not feeling well. I ran through all the excuses. But I couldn’t hold him off forever. So I manufactured a fight, and I used that as an excuse when Mom asked why I wanted to live with Dad. Her exact words: Why the hell would you want to live with that deadbeat? But as much as she hates Dad, she didn’t put up much of an argument, because she hated being a mother more.”
Her gaze grew distant. “But maybe I was wrong about that.”
Leyna wondered if she was thinking of the paintings, one of which had survived in the back of the Ford Focus. It was funny, the things that remained after everything else was destroyed.
“Dad knew about the baby?”
“Dad?” Grace laughed harshly. “Of course not. I didn’t spend a day in that apartment with him and his horrible wife. I told him I was running off with my boyfriend, and he agreed to cover for me if I convinced Mom to pay him child support. Two of his favorite things—lying to Mom and free money.”
“So where were you?”
“I found a young woman who needed a roommate, and I lied about my age. She knew I was lying, but she could also see I was in trouble. Melanie isn’t the kind of woman who’s going to turn away a pregnant teenager.” She nearly smiled. “You’ll like her.”
Grace took a sip of her coffee, and her nose wrinkled the way it had as a kid when her tea was too hot. Then she set the cup back on the table and folded her hands in front of her, the gesture surprisingly tentative. In her sister’s eyes, Leyna saw her own loss reflected.
“But I couldn’t pretend I was staying at Dad’s forever, especially since Mom was paying him the child support,” Grace said. “I always knew I’d come back.” Her voice grew apologetic. “But not to stay. Melanie would’ve watched Ellie as long as I needed her to, but those weeks I was back at Ridgepoint without Ellie, I was bursting out of my skin with missing her. My breasts ached too, and it’s not like I could ask Mom to buy me a pump. But the milk dried up quickly because I wasn’t eating.”
Even if Grace had lost the baby weight, her stomach must’ve been soft, but Leyna didn’t remember it that way. That was the thing about a child’s memory—it was unreliable, suggestible. How many of Leyna’s memories hadn’t been of the real Grace at all but of her Polaroids come to life?
“We found your Polaroids at Rocky’s place.”
She nodded. “He’s a good guy. Gave me a ride that night and didn’t ask questions.” She smiled. “Though, really, I think part of that was to get back at Mom. I gave him those photos, but I kept that one of the four of us. I almost wish I hadn’t. Then Ellie would never have—” She stopped, likely realizing that if Ellie hadn’t found out about her family, Leyna and Grace wouldn’t be sitting across from each other now.
Dominic in the hospital, Richard dead, Ellie traumatized—too large a price had been paid for their reunion.
“I worked at restaurants off the books for a while,” Grace said. “I avoided social media. Started using a new name. But none of that would’ve worked without Melanie. The lease, utilities, even my first car… all in her name. I planned on leaving California once I’d saved some money. I was going to move across the country, do an even better job of getting lost.” She smiled. “But then Melanie introduced me to her brother—Paul Byrd.”
Grace tore off a piece of the pastry, considered it, tossed it back on the plate. “I assume you saw the press conference?” At Leyna’s nod, Grace said, “That was Melanie behind Paul.”
“At the time, I thought she was Ellie’s mom.”
Grace winced. Leyna felt a stab of satisfaction, then remorse at her own pettiness.
“You can’t really stay a ghost if you’re on camera at a press conference,” Grace said.
“Paul knows?”
She nodded, then swiped her phone and pushed it across the table. On the screen, a pink-cheeked toddler nibbled on a sun hat, tufts of blond hair and eyes so blue there was no doubting whose he was.
“I have a son. Kyle. Two years old. Paul thinks he looks like me because of his eyes, but I know he looks like you.”
Leyna reached out and tapped the screen before it could go dark.
“I almost called you when he was born,” Grace said.
“Why didn’t you?” The edge of accusation slipped in no matter how hard she’d tried to keep it out.
Grace sat up in her chair, as if bracing for what came next. “I’m sorry.”
Leyna waited for her to say more. There was a lot for both of them to apologize for, and Leyna wanted to know what sins Grace counted on her list.
“Mostly for leaving you so early. I’d always planned on leaving the day I graduated.”
Leyna nodded, remembering the calendar pages Grace left on her pillow, counting down the days to graduation.
“I had to go earlier, for Ellie, but later—it felt like too much time had passed, but really, I was a coward. Growing up a Clarke, I’d learned to avoid the difficult conversations. But I kept up with what you’ve been up to.”
Leyna put it together. “Your son’s name—Kyle. Are you Kyle’s Mom from the message board?”
Grace shrugged. “It’s where you spent most of your time, but I admit, it was heartbreaking.”
Yeah, for me too. Leyna wished she’d known. She would’ve saved all those exchanges, meaningless at the time but priceless in hindsight.
Grace buried her attention in her paper cup before she looked up again. Her expression softened.
“I’m also sorry about asking Amaya to lie to you,” she said. The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Ellie can be dramatic—she’s going to study theater at NYU—and she did find you through the message boards.” She paused, studying Leyna’s face. Trying to gauge whether Leyna judged her? “But she found the Polaroid of the four of us first. I asked Amaya to exaggerate so you wouldn’t connect Ellie to me, but if you hadn’t been so stubborn…” Her eyes sparked. “We would’ve lost her. So thank you for being stubborn.”
Being a Clarke too, Leyna had learned her own lessons.
“You were right about Adam,” Grace said. “We were all wonderful friends, the four of us. Your heart. Adam’s wit. My—flair. And Dom—he was always the best of us.”
Always. Leyna tried to picture him as he’d been before the fire. That grin that always set her off balance. But she couldn’t erase the image of the bear trap snapping on his leg or the knowledge of how much he’d lost.
Grace finished her coffee, then crumpled the cup. She squeezed the wadded paper in her hand until her knuckles turned white. “But all that changed when it became something more between Adam and me. He changed too. He became more like his mom. Controlling. Jealous. I had to protect Ellie from him.”
“Is that why you two fought that night?”
Grace shook her head. “He never knew about her.” Relief in her voice. “That night, we were fighting about you. About what he’d done.” Her gaze fell to the spot on Leyna’s arm where her scar had once been visible; now it was covered by a patch of burned skin, pink and inflamed. “About what I’d done, too, by not stopping him. If Mom hadn’t interrupted us that night—”
“She thinks you started that fight. That he was holding you down so you wouldn’t hurt him or yourself.”
She shrugged. “I’m okay with her believing that. And honestly? Maybe I would have hurt one of us that night. Like I said, it was a rough year.”
“Did you kill him?” Leyna had already guessed the truth, but she wanted to see if Grace trusted her enough to confirm it.
Grace’s face scrunched, another expression familiar enough to cause Leyna’s chest to constrict.
“Why do you ask that?” Deflect and confuse. Their mom would’ve been proud.
“Because Mom’s right. You’re one of only two options that make sense.”
Grace took another deep breath and met Leyna’s eyes. “Just between us?”
“I’m done with secrets.”
Her sister’s lips thinned. “Then I can’t tell you.”
“Mom said his skull was crushed,” Leyna said. “That’s how he died. According to Mom, at least.”
“I struck Adam with a rock when I found his body, but he was already dead,” she said. “I figured if Mom saw that damage, she’d assume Adam fought with someone after leaving our house that night.”
She didn’t need to say the rest of it, maybe because she couldn’t. Leyna’s heart broke for her sister. How horrible that must have been—for Grace to feel like she had to do that to someone she’d once loved.
“So it was Mom who killed Adam,” Leyna said. “With that strike to his head.” She pictured it clearly: Adam stumbling toward the forest before succumbing to that injury. Grace had covered their mom’s act, just as their mom believed she’d covered for Grace.
At Leyna’s expression, Grace said, “You aren’t surprised.”
Leyna shrugged. “Adam was a big guy. Stronger than you or Mom.” At the end, the only two suspects Leyna had been left with. “Someone crushed his skull, and he didn’t try to defend himself?”
Grace tilted her head, assessing. “It was dark. He could’ve been surprised.” She wasn’t arguing, just seeing what Leyna would say.
Leyna shook her head. The forest was never quiet, especially at night. Leaves crunched. Sticks cracked. Stones shifted. It had been at least a thousand feet from the back door of the Clarke home to where their mom found Adam’s body. Too great a distance for an attacker to disguise her approach.
“So if you knew, why—” Her eyes flashed as understanding dawned. “You were seeing if I’d tell you the truth.”
A current passed between them, and Leyna wanted to reach for her sister’s hand. But it was too soon, or too late. She couldn’t decide which.
“So, I was thinking…” Leyna started, mouth dry. “Maybe you want to come with me to visit Dominic again when he wakes up?”
Grace’s eyes shuttered, and Leyna could feel her preparing to say no. Beg off because she had to get back to her children and husband. To a better version of family that she’d built.
Grace crossed her arms. “I want to help prepare the house for Ellie’s homecoming today,” she said. But then she added, “Tomorrow?”
Leyna gave a quick nod, not trusting herself to speak.
Tomorrow. After sixteen years, Leyna had started to believe they might never have that.
“I almost forgot.” Grace pulled a small square of paper from her purse. She slid the paper to Leyna. It was a page torn from a desk calendar. Written there: One day since I’ve been back. On it, she’d taped a Polaroid of herself and Leyna as kids, lying on the forest floor near a rock that looked like a hedgehog.
“That one never reached the wall,” she said. “I kept it with me.”
This time, Leyna’s hand made it across the table. She rested it on top of Grace’s.
“Thank you. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have locked you out that night.”
“I would’ve left anyway, but yeah—that was a pretty crappy thing to do.” But she laughed as she said it.
Leyna knew it would be a while before she trusted Grace again—if she ever could—but she had her sister and Ellie and a nephew who apparently looked like her. And Dominic.
“Ellie would love to see you once she’s settled, and you can meet Paul and Kyle.” At Leyna’s hesitation, she added quickly, “I mean, if you aren’t busy.”
Leyna smiled. “I’d love that.”
Grace returned the smile—as brilliant as Leyna remembered it.
Her sister, one day back.
Since the wildfire, Leyna had been thinking even more than usual about what it meant to be a Clarke. In a wildfire, small grasses burned first. They didn’t generate much heat, but grasses ignited trees, and a small fire became a larger one. That was what it had been like with their family. A hundred small things that grew into an inferno and became nearly unendurable.
Leyna thought of how quickly the weather had turned the night before. The wind died. Temperatures dropped. Humidity rose. And then there was the burn scar of a previous blaze, which stopped the McRae Fire on its most dangerous flank. A fire needed fuel. And eventually, even a burn scar would heal.
Maybe their scars could heal too, in time. For now, knowing their healing had begun was enough.