29th. A day that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
I clicked out of the article and slammed my laptop shut. It hurt, thinking about that day, but I knew it was nothing to the pain of what Aggie’s family had to feel. And it was only a fraction of what I deserved.
I tossed the computer onto the coffee table with a clatter and stalked out of the room. Dwelling on it wouldn’t do any good. It was time to get to work.
I didn’t actually need to work for money, these days. My earnings from Infinity Falls had compounded nicely in the years since I’d invested them, and paid handsome monthly dividends. But after my first year locked up here with my grief and guilt, I’d learned that I needed to work to keep busy, and to keep my mind occupied.
So when Hadley had offered to help me get started with voice acting, I’d jumped at the chance. I worked under a pseudonym on animated shows, commercials, even narrated audiobooks, all from a studio at the far end of the house. I had no desire to go back to Hollywood, but acting was really all I was qualified for, at this point.
Plus, when I inhabited another character, I got to stop being myself for a while.
I worked myself hard that afternoon, took a break to check on Gus, who was still sleeping, and then went to work some more. I knew I was taxing my voice, but I wasn’t ready to deal with the stew of self-loathing lingering at the back of my mind.
When my throat finally gave out, my voice cracking on every other word, I switched to reading, making notes on an upcoming script. I didn’t throw in the towel until 9 p.m., when I had to admit that the words on the page were swimming in front of my eyes.
I’d just gotten to the kitchen, ravenous, when my phone buzzed. I pulled it out to find another text from Hadley.
HADLEY: I know you’re ignoring me and all, but you should know by now that only makes me more determined, so if you want me to stop texting you, the quickest option is to actually reply, dumbass
HADLEY: Also I just put your Yule care package in the mail, so tell your people to raise the portcullis when that arrives, k?
HADLEY: Also also, look at these slippers! Should I get them? I should get them, right?
She sent a picture of a pair of slippers with little geckos on them, and I sighed. Hadley’s love affair with all things lizard-like was one of the many things I did not understand about her. But, I supposed, she didn’t understand a lot about me either, and yet, she still put up with me enough to be my friend.
Not just that, she insisted on sending me care packages every couple of months. Never for normal holidays, though. She was super into pagan stuff, so instead of Easter, I got an Ostara package. Instead of Groundhog’s Day, I got something for Imbolc. And instead of Christmas, I got one for Yule.
I hadn’t even known what half of those holidays were before I’d met Hadley, but I knew enough now to expect a basket in a few days filled with more scented candles, baked goods, and—because it was Hadley, and she delighted in torturing me—some kind of weird flavored condoms and lube. Her way of gently nudging me to get back out into the dating world again.
I had drawers filled with the stuff now, most of it expired, and I hadn’t been on a date since moving here.
Still, Hadley tried. She cared. And she was a far better friend to me than I deserved. The least I could do was text her back.
I’d just swiped my screen on when I heard a noise behind me and spun to see Gus step tentatively into the room, looking like a hungry ghost.
A smile spread across my face, and I tried to remove it. There was no reason for me to be happy to see him. He wasn’t staying and he wasn’t interested, and even if he were, I wasn’t interested.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Gus gave me a small smile in return that warmed me way more than it should have and crossed the room to join me in front of the refrigerator. He looked around the kitchen as he did so, his eyes taking in the vaulted, white-washed ceilings, the deep-red brick walls, and