LITMIR.BIZ

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way back up the drive. “Just take a look at them and let me know if everything is okay?”

      “Yes ma’am.”

      She beams. “How polite of you. Well I’ll let you be on your way. My card is in there, call me with any questions.”

      “Sure.”

      She waves her long fingers at me and goes to her car.

      I turn to the house and fight the urge to get back into the truck and get the hell out of here. I pull the single key from my pocket, the one that burned against my leg since Mabel handed it to me three days ago. I push it into the keyhole and turn. I allow the door to open in front of me, my feet planted to the ground. The door ricochets off the wall and starts to return, but I enter the house before I lose my nerve.

      I bump the door closed with my foot. The air in the house is stale, lingering with the spicy scent of whiskey from that final night. I peer into the living room, which needs a serious cleaning. My nose wrinkles at the amount of dust on the fireplace mantel. I head into the kitchen and open the door to the basement. I don’t need lights to find what I’m looking for, not that they work anyway. I find the electric panel and flip on the switches. The house hums to life. I take the steps two at a time and am back in the kitchen. The clock above the stove blinks 12:00. I check the time on my phone. I should leave soon.

      I round the corner and take the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the two bedrooms on the right side of the hallway, and fling open the middle door on the left. My shoulders droop and my bag falls to the floor. My room is exactly how I left it. An outdated PC sits on the desk I made in wood shop, still unstained. A full-sized bed takes up most of the room. I make my way to the window, pushing aside the navy blue curtains that match the bedspread, revealing Hadley’s bedroom window. My heart lurches at the thought of her. Soon enough I’ll see her again.

      A small bright orange piece of yarn still hangs from her sill, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking. At ten I thought it was the greatest idea to build a zip-line between our houses using Hadley’s grandmother’s knitting yarn.

      I tear my eyes away from the window and let the curtain fall. I cross the room to the closet. I didn’t take much the night I left. I grab a black t-shirt from the hanger and toss it on the bed, lifting the same one I’d worn for three days over my head. I pull on the black shirt and bring the fabric to my nose. Good enough.

      I take a deep breath and leave the room. Here goes nothing.

      ***

      I speed the whole way to the park, my mind on autopilot. I avoid looking at the swing set in the distance and accelerate through the winding roads toward the main building smack dab in the middle of the park. I pull my truck in one of the last spots of the small parking lot and hop out, tucking my phone in my back pocket.

      I stride up the sidewalk and pull open the door. The air conditioning blasts my face. Connecticut heat used to bother me, until I moved to Texas. My hometown knows nothing of heat, but the air still felt nice against my skin.

      “Will!” Rocky calls from behind the desk. I could swear the man looks the same since I was a kid at camp. He pushes himself off his chair and offers me his hand.

      I shake his hand. “I thought you would have retired by now?”

      “I’m going to die in this chair,” he says with a grin.

      I laugh.

      He points a crooked finger to the left. “Peter started a little while ago, but he told me to expect you.”

      “Thanks,” I say.

      “It’s nice to see you again. We’ve missed you.”

      I nod. “You too.”

      Peter Beauman’s muffled voice gets clearer the closer I get to the room. A door opens down the hall and I look up. Carter Daniels fastens his eyes on mine. I stand up straighter and meet them. His gaze flicks to the door and his nostrils flare.

      “What are you doing here?”

      “Working.” I need his shit like I need a nail through my foot. I grab the door handle and turn, pushing into the room.

      Mr. Beauman is at the front, reading from his clipboard. His eyes lift to mine and a warm smile crosses his lips. “Looks like we’re all here now.”

      Everyone in the room turns to me, but the only thing my eyes settle on is the back of Hadley’s head. Her hair longer, falling in waves over the back of the chair.

      Lily looks exactly the same, down to her glower. Hadley turns in her seat, confusion transforming to shock.

      I glance at Mr. Beauman, who is indicating for me to take a seat.

      I do. Didn’t he tell her I was coming? She’s still staring at me as if I’m a ghost. I suppose I am after leaving two years ago. As many times as I wanted to call her, I just didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after sending Dad away. We can never go back to that place.

      “Now that Will’s arrived,” Mr. Beauman says, “I can announce the last pairing. Hadley Beauman and Will Carson will have the twelve to fourteen year old group.” He pushes on and Hadley finally turns in her seat. A held breath seeps through my teeth. “The schedules are up here.” Mr. Beauman points to a small table next to him. “Enjoy your lunch and please spend the next hour getting to know your co-workers. I’ll be back soon to get started.”

      The room bursts into movement and excited voices. Most move towards the big sub on the table at the far end of the room. Mr. Beauman comes to my side and I stand, shaking his hand. “Sir.”

      “It’s so good to see you again, Will.” He hands a stack of papers to me with a pen. “Application and waiver. You can fill these out now and bring them to me.”

      “Will do.”

      He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for doing this. You’re a lifesaver.”

      I nod.

      Mr. Beauman pats my shoulder one more time before leaving the room. I’m barely in my chair before a flurry of blonde hair catches my eye. Between Hadley’s face and her sprinting from the room I know Mr. Beauman didn’t tell her I was coming. Shit.

      A plate topped with two pieces of the sub appears close to my face. I look up at a blonde girl. She delicately sits in the chair next to mine, her legs tuck under the chair. She smiles, showing her bright white teeth. “I’m Skye,” she says.

      I take the plate from her. “Thanks. I’m Will.”

      She opens her hand to me and I shake it. She winces. I loosen my grip.

      “Is this your first year?” she asks, combing fingers through her hair.

      My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten since the night before. “I worked here for three years before I left.” I bite into the food.

      “Where did you go?” Her green eyes widen.

      “Texas,” I say, taking another bite.

      She giggles. “That’s where you got your accent, huh?”

      I smile politely.

      “So adorable,” she adds.

      I finish most of the sub, dropping a sliver of bread onto the plate. “I need to fill this out. I’ll see you later okay? And thanks again for the food.”

      A flash of disappointment etches her face but she recovers quickly. She picks up her plate and stands, walking down the aisle toward the others. I put the plate on the chair next to me and lean over the paperwork, scribbling down my name, address, and other identifying information. I’m on the waiver page when a pair of familiar tennis shoes appear in my periphery. The same ones I threw in the park duck pond four years ago.

      “Hello William,” Lily says slowly. She knows very well that’s not my name. Mom never wanted me to be a junior and she hated nicknames, so in homage to my father she

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