They were gone.

I’d never see Dream again.

Tears streamed down my face.

I sat there for two hours, crying and occasionally drinking, and eventually throwing up a few times. I drank almost half of the wine bottle but poured out the rest after becoming sick. I needed to stay sharp.

I walked to the edge of the vista again—funny how when you really have to do something, you can overcome your fears—and stared into the sharp drop ending in a vast, deep canyon below. The sun was high in the sky now, its heat beating down on me. I listened intently, but all I heard was the chirping of a few birds. I tried not to think of their bodies lying somewhere in the deep recesses of the canyon. The result of my actions. They were gone now. The thing was I hadn’t wanted either of them to die. I’d had good intentions. I only wanted to show Venus who Dream really was and to scare him. To scare him into what… being a decent person? I never should have invited Venus here. She was just a fly caught in Dream’s web, like me. She didn’t deserve to die.

I turned, grabbed the picnic basket and blanket, then headed back to the van. I passed a couple on the way back through the woods, the only people I’d seen all day. I smiled and nodded calmly, and they reciprocated.

I opened the van door, lifted the floor mat, and retrieved the keys. Dream hated carrying keys; he always put them under the mat. I put the picnic basket in the passenger seat. A few minutes later I pulled out of the parking lot and drove to the bus station. I parked the van in a back lot, put the keys back under the floor mat, and grabbed the picnic basket. I removed the purse I’d put in there, a loan from Raindrop, and put the handgun into the leather bag. Then I disposed of the rest of the basket in a dumpster located at the back of the bus station.

I slung the purse over my shoulder, handgun inside, and walked to a café close to the bus station. I sat there for an hour or so, nursing a coffee and a slice of chocolate cake, although I only took one bite. Sugar be damned. I had just killed the love of my life. Maybe I was the poison, not the sugar.

I called an Uber and stopped first at Dream’s grandmother’s house, the first home we shared together. Branch was cutting vegetables at the kitchen counter when I arrived. I tried to walk past without being noticed, but it didn’t work.

“Oh, hey, Sunny.” Branch stopped cutting.

“Hi, Branch,” I said.

“Is Dream with you?”

I shook my head. “No… uh actually we broke up.”

“What?” Branch walked over to me. “Really?”

“We don’t want the same things anymore,” I sighed. “I’m going to get some of my stuff and stay at Raindrop’s a few more days.”

He nodded. “You’re not leaving Listening Lark, are you?”

“No, I just need some time to myself.”

“Where are Dream and Venus?”

“They took the van, said they were going to the beach,” I replied.

Branch nodded and touched my arm. “I’m sorry. I hope you come back soon.”

“Thanks.” I went upstairs, packed my things, threw in one of Dream’s T-shirts and returned to the Uber, still waiting for me, to go back to Raindrop’s house.

I walked into the guesthouse, eerily silent now, and fell onto the bed, my body shaking, tears flooding, as my emotions exploded over what I had done.

I stayed in the guesthouse for two days, never leaving it. Raindrop stopped in to check on me and I told her I broke up with Dream and he was now with Venus. I also told her I couldn’t stay here anymore. She was sympathetic and said there would always be a place for me here. I was grateful for her friendship.

The next day I booked a flight to Philadelphia, using a credit card Aunt Lou had given me for emergencies. I hugged Raindrop goodbye but didn’t tell her where I was going. She didn’t know where I was from originally. We hadn’t talked about our past.

We lived in the here and now.

FIFTY-FOUR2024

Aimee

Two weeks passed, but no strange surprises. I admit, I was a bit disappointed. In the beginning, I had thought it might be Brother Jim, but as the gifts became more personal, my hopes that Dream may still be alive flourished. It seemed impossible, but who else would know about the dates, the snow people, the gold locket? I still held on to hope, although the longer he took without revealing himself, the more I wondered if it wasn’t a reunion he was after. He probably wanted to hurt me. I did shoot him off a cliff.

But what if he had lived?

Even if he’d survived the gunshot, what about the fall into the canyon? I decided not to think about it and to simply be thankful for a quiet life with Archie, my sexy, responsible, and loyal husband. A man I could count on being there for me. A man that I could trust. I couldn’t trust Dream; he was just like my father. So, why did I have this intense longing for him? To see him again, to be with him again, to be in love with him again?

I needed help.

Archie had been acting odd since John’s shooting, but he would move on eventually. I looked forward to spring, only a few months away, when we could start fresh in this increasingly strange town. I considered Archie’s words seriously about not being sure if he wanted to live in Poplin. Maybe we would move on, we could live anywhere, as long as we were together. That was all I cared about.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off with a plush towel, moisturized, and rubbed a leave-in conditioner into my hair. I slathered on lip balm and reached for my robe, hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. I tied the robe tightly around my body, noticing something in the left pocket. I slipped my hand inside and pulled out the object.

A key.

The guesthouse key.

I stared at it. I had worn the robe last night and the key was not there, I’d swear it. Someone put it there within the last twenty-four hours.

I flung open the bathroom door and yelled, “Dream, are you here?”

I listened but all I could hear was the dripping faucet in the bathroom. I closed my eyes and imagined Dream’s voice in my head. I wished he was here, but he wasn’t. The house remained silent.

Where are you?

And what do you want?

I poured a second cup of coffee and ate a banana while staring at the key now lying on the kitchen island. Archie would be at school until four. If I didn’t stop, I’d be staring at this key all day. I didn’t even check the house. If Dream wanted to hurt me, he would have done so by now. No, he wanted something else.

Maybe my sanity?

I picked up the key and put it inside my sweater pocket. I walked over to the pantry, got out some cleaning supplies, and headed up to the attic. I had planned to clean the attic today, so that’s what I would do. With all the drawing I’d been doing I thought it would make a nice art studio for me. I could set up an easel up there and do larger pencil drawings; and I’d like to give painting a try too. But, first, a good cleaning was required for the dusty attic.

I opened the door at the top of the attic stairs and pulled the string light. The dim light illuminated the room. We would need more light in here if I wanted to use this space. Maybe add a few floor lamps and a comfortable chair by the window. A ceiling fan wasn’t a bad idea; the air was stale up here. Also, a heater, maybe one of those electric fireplaces to warm the space.

Sunlight filtered through the pretty stained-glass window at the front of the house and the spider web window, with actual spider webs on it that I needed to wipe, at the back of the house. I grabbed my dust rag and spray. I cleaned away as much dust as possible.

I wiped Archie’s file cabinets and pushed them into the corner of the room. Then I moved over to the large mahogany wardrobe, wiping the dust on every corner of the large piece of furniture. This might be a good place to store art supplies. I opened the door, surveying the space. Yes, this would work. I wiped the back, sides, and bottom shelf.

As I wiped the bottom shelf, my rag got stuck on a nub toward the back. I lifted the rag and peered into the wardrobe. All the way in the back was a small, almost flat black button. I pressed it.

The shelf slid open to reveal a hidden compartment below it, filled with items. I stared, recognizing some of the objects. Dream’s T-shirt, a few photos from Listening Lark, the dried lotus flowers. Things from the box in my closet.

The attic suddenly felt very quiet. Too quiet. The lurking silence contained a wisp of fear.

I turned around to look behind me.