What Lies in the Woods(10)



Her calm fractured. “Of course you’re in favor of just blowing everything up. You’re never the one who has to stick around to clean up the mess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve never tried to fix anything in your life. You just break it and leave,” Cass said. There was a prickly anger in her voice that left my skin feeling raw. “You left us behind. Amanda doesn’t even remember you.”

“Can you blame her for wanting to get away?” Olivia asked.

“We were kids. People have shit in their childhoods. The point is to move past it,” Cass said.

“Yeah, you’ve definitely moved past it. We’re what, two blocks from your parents’ old place?” I asked, my temper flaring to match hers.

“Better to be living with a shitty boyfriend and taking photos of people who are happier than you’ll ever be?”

“Fuck off, Cass.”

“You too, Naomi.”

We glared at each other. Then she laughed, wagging her head. “It is so damn easy to fight with you. Always has been.”

I let out a strained chuckle of my own. We’d scrapped constantly as kids, too. Quick to fight and quick to get over it. Even back then, my instinct had been to lash out and run at the slightest provocation, and Cass was always the one who hunted me down so we could patch things up.

Cass straightened up and walked over to the counter, plucking a half-empty bottle of white wine from its spot. “I’m drinking. Who’s with me?” I glanced at the clock. Barely 10:15.

“Cass—” Olivia started.

“Well, I’m not drinking alone,” she said, and took down glasses for all of us. She set them out and poured a splash into each. She took a sip from hers, shut her eyes, and stood there with the glass hovering an inch from her mouth. Then she opened her eyes, and they were clear and calm. “Listen, Liv. I understand what you’re doing—I do. Really. It’s not right, leaving her out there. But you’ve been thinking about this for years. We’ve only had a few minutes. Give us some time to catch up, okay?”

“I—” Olivia began.

“We need time to figure things out,” Cass insisted. She glanced pointedly over at me, looking for backup. “We have to think about the consequences.”

I took a swallow of my wine. Liv was right—it was long past time to tell someone about Persephone. Someone out there had to be looking for her. Mourning her.

But this wasn’t something to do on a whim. We needed time to think.

I needed time to think. Because Cass was right—I didn’t want people asking too many questions about that day in the woods. Persephone was a secret we all shared, but I had my own secrets, too.

“Please,” Olivia said, her eyes fixed on her lap. There was an ache in my chest. I couldn’t get a full breath.

“Let’s just take a beat here,” I said, hating myself for it. “Cass is right. We need to make sure we’re going into this clear-eyed.”

Olivia gave a tiny nod. She’d closed in on herself.

Cass sighed. “I’m sorry, Liv. You sprang this on us, and … and maybe you’re right, and it’s time. But if we decide to do this, let’s be smart about it. I can make some calls, and we can talk to a lawyer, and at least make sure we wouldn’t be opening ourselves up to some kind of liability. Okay?”

“Okay.” It was barely a sound, it was so quiet. She lifted her eyes to the level of the counter, and even that seemed like a monumental effort. Guilt worked its slick way through my gut. “Do you want to know her name?”

“No,” Cass said immediately, and I was glad. Because neither did I. I wanted her to stay Persephone. Stay a myth, a story. Stay our secret. The instant she had a name, we’d have to admit that she was a person.

That she was more than the bones we’d found in the forest, and the magic we’d made from them.





We talked about inconsequential things after that. Cass’s daughter, Amanda; the lodge; my work. Cass and I kept up the conversation while Liv sat silently, picking at the skin at the base of her thumb. Finally I put my hand on her arm.

“I should probably get going,” I said. “Liv, can I give you a lift home?”

“Already?” Cass asked, more out of obligation than anything. We were all eager to call the strained gathering to a close.

“I’m wiped from that drive, and I should really drop by and see my dad,” I said.

“We’ll talk soon,” Cass promised, and enveloped us each in a hug before letting us go. She kept her hand on my arm a moment longer than she needed to, giving me a look that I knew well. The Make sure Liv’s okay look. She squeezed my arm one last time before letting me go.

Liv trailed along after me and got into the passenger seat without comment. She sat there, picking at that patch of dried skin. Liv didn’t drive. It wasn’t that she couldn’t; she just hated it. She was a common sight on the side of the road around Chester, walking on the shoulder with her head down and her thoughts a million miles away.

I started up the engine. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?” she asked.

I shrugged. “For all of it.”

“I know you don’t want to lose business, but—”

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