Page 169 - My FlipBook

T R A I L O F C R U M B S

She couldn’t stand still, the door always in her view. Eight
o’clock came and went. Greta checked her phone compulsively,
Ash’s paranoia whispering in her ear.
At 8:08, a shadow crossed Greta’s hand as she reached
for her phone again. Rachel. Greta glanced around the room,
just in case. Only the two of them, standing by the romance
paperbacks.
Rachel ducked her head and smiled, like old times.

“Greta. I was surprised to hear from you. How are you?”
Greta didn’t know how to answer. “I thought it was time
we talked.” She paused. “And I think I need your help.”
Rachel pulled her over to a round table in the corner, far
from anybody else. “What do you need my help with?”
Greta slid into a chair and waited for Rachel to do the
same. She felt a pang, Rachel smiling at her like they shared

a good secret. Like stepping into the sun after too long in the
shade. She shoved away another memory—the one of Rachel’s
car peeling away on snow-covered gravel. “First of all, I want
you to know I didn’t ask Ash to beat up Dylan. I had no idea
he’d do that.”
The smile dropped from Rachel’s mouth. “I didn’t think
so. Didn’t really seem like you. What happened?”
“Well, I had a…realization, I guess. That night at the
cabin”—it never got easier, saying these words—“I never

said I wanted to sleep with Dylan.” She cleared her throat.
“It wasn’t consensual. I finally told Ash.”
Rachel smiled again, this time like a mother being told
by her child that heffalumps and woozles actually exist.

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