***
Waking up the next morning with a thumping headache and very queasy stomach should have been punishment enough. Alex didn’t see it that way. I was jolted awake by the sound of him smashing the lid down on a saucepan as he circled the couch.
“Stop!” I pleaded, covering my head with a cushion.
He ripped the cushion away. “I’m sorry, Charli.” His voice was sweet. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Just stop,” I begged.
I closed my eyes because I needed to. The morning was much too bright. Alex was much too bright. He chuckled maniacally as he walked away. I heard the tap running and a few seconds later he returned, presenting me with a huge glass of water.
“Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.” I sat up and took it from him, gratefully.
“How much trouble am I in?” I asked, preparing for the worst. The worst didn’t bother me. I didn’t feel as though I had much left to lose.
Alex sat on the edge of the coffee table. “Not as much as Nicole. I’ve been to see her mother.”
“Why did you tell Carol?” I asked, horror-struck.
“Someone had to. Nicole didn’t even leave a note. Carol’s a mess. Did you know she was planning this?”
I instantly regretted shaking my head so fervently. I had to swallow hard to stop myself throwing up in his lap. “No. Not a thing. I still wouldn’t know if I hadn’t noticed her sneaking out of the party.”
His hard expression softened. “Are you upset with her?”
Alex wasn’t stupid. He knew the repercussions of Nicole leaving town were huge. Without her, my travel plans were sunk.
I shrugged, faking indifference. “I forgive her. I’ll work something out.”
“You can come to Marseille with me and Gabs.” He said it like he’d just solved all my problems.
Never, I promised myself, determined to resort to plan B. I shuddered, wondering how long it would take to come up with a plan B.
It took a long time to pull myself together that morning, but I did it. Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t an option. Neither was tagging along to Marseille with Gabrielle and Alex, so I was determined to figure out a way around it. The best way to start was to work out my finances.
Nicole and I had been saving for years. Realistically, the proceeds of my tiny postcard business would have added up to little more than a few thousand dollars. She’d probably fared much better, working every shift Alex had offered her since she was fourteen. My saving grace was the unbelievable bonus of receiving the proceeds of Adam’s boat – only I hadn’t received it yet. I wasn’t worried. Norm was hardly the type to rip anyone off. Needing an excuse to leave the house, I made the short drive into town to visit Norm and Floss.
Floss seemed to have a sixth sense. I couldn’t remember a time that I’d ever visited and got as far as knocking. She was always waiting for me on the front step.
“How’s the head, Charli?”
“Is there anything you don’t know?” I asked, hugging her tightly so she wouldn’t see me blush.
“I saw your dad at the café this morning. He mentioned that you were feeling under the weather.”
It was amazing how quickly Floss dropped the façade and began referring to Alex as my father. I was astounded that she’d managed to keep the secret going for seventeen years.
I released her and stepped back. “Is that what he called it?”
Floss’s trademark roar of laughter filled the air and I couldn’t help laughing with her.
“No. He told me you had a skinful last night and were paying for it this morning.”
“Is he worried?” It was a question I was too fearful to ask Alex.
She shook her head telling me no, and I huffed out a long breath. He wasn’t about to ship me off to rehab.
“He’s very worried about Nicole running away, though, and how that will affect your plans.”
Everyone around me had jumped to the same conclusion. My plans were dead in the water the minute she left.
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted.
“So what brings you here today?” she asked, pulling the screen door open and ushering me inside.
“I came to see Norm, actually.” I scanned the front room as I walked in ahead of her.
Floss’s house was cluttered to say the least. Figurines and ornaments decorated every surface. Heavy lace curtains hung on the windows and everywhere I looked, there seemed to be a sleeping cat. Floss claimed to have three cats. I’d seen at least four in the minute and a half that I’d been there.
“He’s not here, love. He has a new mistress these days.” My expression as I turned to face her must have been strange because immediately, she explained. “The boat, Charli. He’s gone fishing.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “That’s what I wanted to see him about. I was hoping he’d have my cheque for me.”
I felt embarrassed even asking. Floss stood motionless, frowning at me for so long that I had to look away.
“Adam asked Norm to make out a cash cheque and give it to you,” she said slowly, replaying the scenario out loud.
I nodded in agreement, prompting her to continue.
“He went to the café last weekend to give to Alex but he wasn’t there. Nicole was working. She offered to pass it on to you, so he gave it to her.”
“Has the cheque been cashed, Floss?” I asked shakily.
Floss staggered back a few steps and flopped down on the red velvet recliner behind her. “I’m so sorry, love.”
Her apology instantly confirmed my worst fears. My heart was screaming at me to come up with a plausible explanation for the picture coming together in my head. But I couldn’t. There was no denying it. My so-called best friend had betrayed me in the worst way imaginable. The Pipers Cove version of Bonnie and Clyde were hobnobbing around the world, living my dream – on Adam’s money.
I reached for her hand, like she’d done for me a million times.
“It’s not your fault, Floss,” I insisted. “Don’t waste another second thinking about it.”
The hooligan half of me was plotting revenge. The sweeter, less well-known part of me spent the next half hour trying to console Floss. It took a long time and a gallon of tea to calm her down.
Before I left, I swore her to secrecy. Until I could figure out a way around it, no one needed to know. The only person in town that I trusted with the news was Mitchell. And I suddenly became desperate to see him.
To get to Mitchell’s shack, I had no choice but to drive past the main house. Thankfully the Audi was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t in the mood for fending off Beautifuls.
Everything about the Tate property was impressive except Mitchell’s shack. It was originally the main house and probably once quite charming, but now it was ramshackle. If I didn’t know for sure that he lived there, I would have sworn it had been abandoned.
I pounded on the front door, fighting to be heard over the loud, angry music coming from inside. The door flew open and I took a quick step back, shocked by his fierce expression.
“Oh, it’s you.” The choler disappeared instantly.
“Who were you expecting?”
He poked his head out, looking from left to right as if he expected to spot someone in the bushes.
“Lisa,” he uttered, motioning me inside. I didn’t ask why. I could handle no more drama that day.
He walked across the cluttered room to the stereo, turning it down. I stood, too scared to sit on the manky couch.
“You’re a pig,” I told him, making no secret of my disgust.
“Is that what you came here to tell me?” He didn’t stop moving, sifting through piles of clothes like he was searching for something.
“No. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to figure out what else he’s taken.”
“Who?” My question was superfluous. I already knew the answer.
“Ethan. He’s taken two of my boards and my camera. And those are the things
I know about,” he growled, understandably furious.
“That’s not all they took,” I told him.
He looked at me for the first time since I’d walked in. “Tell me everything,” he demanded.
I launched into my woeful tale. Mitchell said nothing for a long time, probably trying to make sense of it, just as I had tried to do. “So, what are you going to do?” he asked finally.
“Nothing. There’s nothing I can do.”
Mitchell swept a pile of clothes off the couch and sat. We both stared straight ahead, lost in our thoughts. The two people we never thought would, had betrayed us.
“We were talking about South America just a few nights ago. That was the plan,” he mused. “My dad gave us work in the vineyard. Three months of saving and we were to be out of here.”
Apologising seemed absurd but I found myself doing it anyway. He shuddered like he was warding off ugly thoughts.
I heard tyres screeching on the gravel driveway. I hadn’t heard the engine, which meant only one thing. It was the Audi. The beautiful, sleek, quiet Audi…with the hot pink seat covers and butterfly decals.
Mitchell groaned, and buried his head in his hands. I didn’t need to ask why.
The wooden front door flew open and Jasmine appeared, looking every bit the fiend she was. Even without the hangover, she would have been hard to take. Lisa stood behind her, looking past the chief Beautiful at Mitchell.
“Do you ever knock?” he asked irately.
“No. What’s she doing here?” Jasmine pointed at me.
“None of your business,” he told her.
Jasmine thrust Lisa forward.
“It is my business. You need to make up your mind who you want.”
The closest I’d come to throwing up that day came at that moment. “I was just leaving,” I said, suddenly keen to escape.
Mitchell grabbed my sleeve to stop me. “No, you weren’t.” He marched to the door and pushed his sister and Lisa out, slamming it behind them and locking it.
Jasmine was unrelenting, pounding on the door and screeching something about us both having the morals of alley cats. Mitchell ignored her.
“Charli, how much money do you have?” he asked, leaning on the door like there was a chance she’d kick it in. I wondered if he was going to pay her to go away.
“About twenty bucks,” I replied, reaching into my pocket.
“No, no. I mean in the bank.”
“Not much.”
“Enough for a plane ticket?”
I nodded, unsure where he was headed.
“I can probably cover a plane ticket too. Let’s just get out of here. Right, now. Let’s go,” He almost sounded desperate.
“I’m not – ”
“What’s the point in staying? Nicole’s gone. Adam’s gone. You want to get out of town. You’re looking for a travel buddy. I’m right here.” He pointed at himself.
He made it sound so easy. In reality there was nothing simple about it. I hadn’t finished school, I had far less money than I should have…and I had Alex.
“When?” I asked.
“Today, tomorrow, as soon as we can.”
“I need more time.”
“Charli, The more time you take, the more likely you’ll talk yourself out of it.”
He was right. That’s exactly what would happen.
Finally the pounding on the door stopped and we heard tyres spinning on gravel. I could only imagine where the Beautifuls were going. I didn’t want to know.
“Can I think about it?”
“No,” he replied quickly.
I walked towards the door, which he was still blocking. “Fine,” I said vaguely.
Mitchell unlocked the door, stepping aside to let me pass. “Fine, what?”
“Fine. I’ll go. Book the tickets. I don’t care where to.” The words tumbled out quickly, but I was telling the truth. I really didn’t care. Travelling with Mitchell meant my horizons broadened considerably. Almost nowhere was out of bounds. “We’ll leave the day after tomorrow.”
He lunged forward, squeezing the life out of me as he hugged me much too hard. “Good girl.”
“Ugh! Get off,” I demanded, trying to wriggle free.
Mitchell released me, grinning like he’d won something huge. “Stay a while. We should decide where we’re going to go.”
I shook my head. “No. I have to tell Alex.”
“Shouldn’t you wait until we at least have a plan?” he asked, sounding unsure for the first time.
“I’m leaving town the day after tomorrow. That is a plan,” I replied.
28. Three Options
I had no idea how Alex would take the news of me leaving town with Mitchell. What I did know was that I’d only have one chance to convince him that I hadn’t lost my mind. I figured the best place to corner him was at home. It also gave me an hour to work on my speech.
The weather that afternoon was glorious. The miserable winter had given way to spring. Tulip blooms had popped from every spot in the garden. It was a happy sight that I looked forward to every year, secretly still hopeful that one day I’d find a sleeping baby fairy. Curiously, for the first time ever, we had a sea of orange tulips amongst the traditional red and yellow blooms. Alex thought they’d mutated over the years. It made sense. Some of the bulbs had been flowering since I was a kid.
Adam had once told me that the fairy garden would be my legacy. The thought of leaving town made me hopeful that the mark I left on the world would be much bigger.
I sat on the steps of the veranda, soaking up the last minutes of the day’s sunshine. Gabrielle arrived home first. That changed my game plan a little bit. It was definitely favourable to have her there because her influence on Alex was generally calming. The Décarie effect. I’d fallen under that spell myself.
“What are you doing sitting out here?” she asked, walking towards me with a bag of groceries.
“Waiting for Alex. What are you doing here?”
I shuffled over to make room for her to pass but instead she sat beside me, resting the groceries on her lap. “I thought I’d surprise him with dinner. What are you planning to surprise him with?”
Lying in wait to ambush him the minute he got home made it pretty obvious that something was going on. I told her my plan in its entirety, which took about five seconds, highlighting just how harebrained it was going to sound to him.
“I have to go. It’s come down to a case of now or never,” I told her.
Gabrielle deliberated for a long time, making me nervous.
“Then go, Charli. I will support you all the way,” she said finally, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.
“Really?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I had my doubts,” I admitted.
She laughed lightly, repositioning the bag on her lap.
I hadn’t treated Gabrielle well in the past. I’d wasted a lot of energy making her life difficult, which was stupid. She’d turned out to be my greatest ally. One day, when I was braver, I’d tell her so.
“You seem to have a lot of doubts,” she said, hinting towards a different subject matter.
“Not about this. Getting out of here has always felt right,” I insisted.
“What about other decisions you’ve made lately?”
Her question was as subtle as an avalanche. Gabrielle had never once questioned me about my reasons for ending things with Adam. I was miffed that she’d chosen that moment to raise the subject.
“Have you spoken to him lately?” I asked.
“Who? Adam?”
“Of course, Adam,” I grumbled. “Who else?”
“Well!” she said theatrically. “It’s funny you should mention him. I got a letter this morning. He usually sends me emails so it was a wonderful surprise to see that he’d put pen to paper.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crisp white envelope.
“Did he mention me?” I asked, trying
to ignore the fact that she was waving the envelope in my face.
“Of course he did. You may read it,” she permitted.
I pushed her hand away, unable to imagine being desperate enough to read a letter he’d written to someone else. “No,” I griped.
“Charli, it might be good for you.” She sang her words, trying to tempt me.
“No, vitamins are good for you. Reading someone else’s mail is not good for you, it’s creepy,” I retorted.
Gabrielle squared her shoulders and huffed loudly. Emotional restraint wasn’t her strong point. When she was cross, the whole world knew about it. Huffing, I could handle.
“How many classes are you failing at school?” Conversations with the Parisienne were often confusing. I’d given up trying to conquer that problem.
“One. French,” I replied, pulling a face at her.
“That’s right. You owe me one more assignment before the end of your school career.” She held one finger in the air, emphasising her point.
“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow. You’ll just have to fail me.”
“No, I’ll give you a chance. Take this letter and translate it in its entirety. If you do it well – without cheating – I’ll pass you.” She smiled like she’d offered me the chance of a lifetime.
It was a futile exercise. Leaving school early meant there was no chance of graduating anyway.
I pointed to the letter in her hand. “Those words weren’t meant for me.”
“Charli, the French language wasn’t meant for you.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Why would I want to read it?”
“Because you love Adam. And when you love someone, you do all sorts of dreadful things.”
She’d made that statement many times and it made no more sense now than it had the first time. I was about to demand an explanation when she jumped to her feet. The grumbling V8 engine in the distance explained why.
The letter fluttered onto my lap as she dropped it. “I’ll give you one week to translate,” she said in her best schoolteacher voice. “No extensions, no excuses.”
“I’ll think about it,” I mumbled, stuffing the envelope into my pocket.
It took forever for Alex to mosey up to the veranda. He seemed more interested in the apple he was eating than in making it to the house.
“Hey,” he said, sitting in the spot Gabrielle had vacated seconds earlier.
“Alex, I’ve got to tell you something really important.” I didn’t mean to sound as bleak as I did but my tone didn’t seem to affect him.
He took another bite of his apple. “When are you leaving town, Charli? Jasmine came in as I was closing up, busting to tell me that you and Mitchell are flying the coop.”
Damn Jasmine Tate and her bionic hearing!
I’d anticipated a ferocious argument, but he was as calm as I’d ever heard him. I was supposed to ease into it, explaining my reasons before sitting back and watching him explode.
“The day after tomorrow.”
He didn’t react, unless munching an apple could be considered a reaction. Finally he glanced at me, still looking nothing like a man in danger of detonating. Pegging it as hard as he could, Alex threw the core into the garden.
“Fairy food,” he told me.
I said nothing, waiting for the diatribe to begin.
“Carol came into the shop today too,” he told me, completely off subject. “She’s aged a hundred years overnight.”
“Has she heard from Nicole?”
“Not a peep. She’s absolutely devastated because she doesn’t think Nicole is going to handle the big bad world on her own. And I think she’s right.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because her kid believed every cockamamie story my kid ever told her. That makes her a few feathers short of a whole duck. Remember that year her mum made angel cake for her birthday party?” He smiled at the ancient memory. “Carol sent you home early because you told Nicole that angel cake was made with real angels.”
I did remember. It was her sixth birthday party. Nicole freaked out, bawling like the world was ending when her mother tried to cut the cake. She refused to eat it and screamed at anyone else who dared to take a bite. Carol was so furious that she left the party to drive me home.
“She told me I was a monster.”
Alex chuckled, exactly the way the father of a monster should. “I can still remember watching her march you up to the house,” he mused. I wondered if it was something I was supposed to apologise for. Realistically it would take years to say sorry for all of my past misdeeds. I had no idea why he was mentioning it now. “Carol took great delight in telling me how naughty you were. You strutted up that path with your lopsided pigtails like you owned the world.” He stared at the path, almost as if he could see it all over again. His eyes drifted back to mine. “The point is, she told me today that she wished you had gone too. She would have felt a lot better knowing that you were with her.”
“Because I’m a monster?”
“No, because you are ready for this. I’ve spent your entire lifetime trying to rein you in. Maybe it’s time to stop doing that.”
“I am ready for this, Alex. I’ve wanted this forever.” I hoped I spoke seriously enough for him to believe me.
“The timing sucks, Charli.”
“I know it’s not perfect but I can finish school later,” I reasoned.
He frowned like he didn’t believe a word I’d just said. I wasn’t sure I did either.
“Please tell me you have a plan. Mitchell can be the brawn but I’m relying on you to be the brain. Your money won’t last long unless you’re careful with it.”
I knew Alex was taking comfort in the knowledge that I had the proceeds of La Coccinelle. It was a bubble I had no intention of bursting.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have a plan. I’ve left it up to Mitch to book the tickets.”
Alex tutted. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been quite so honest. “Oh, great,” he grumbled. “You’re going to end up in a jungle somewhere.”
I was slightly irked by his lack of faith. “He’ll look after me. You know that.”
“I actually wish Boy Wonder was around.”
Cue the unintentional dagger through my heart.
The habit of saying what you’re really thinking when not concentrating was obviously hereditary. Alex grimaced. “Sorry, Charli. I didn’t mean – ”
“It’s okay.” I cut his bumbling apology short. “I miss him too, but it doesn’t change anything.”
Alex looked stunned, suddenly awakened to the growing regret I’d been feeling for the past month. Sometimes being such an accomplished liar bothered me.
“Do you think you made a mistake?”
I nodded. “I’m certain of it. I think I lost more than I’m ever going to have again. I love him even more now that he’s gone, and that wasn’t even supposed to be possible.”
It was a strange confession to make, but not an uncomfortable one.
“Are you going to go to him, Charli?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“No. I promised him he’d get his old life back. No drama, no crazy. Staying away is the least I can do,” I said, smiling artificially. Even talking about him was crushing. I could accept that Adam was gone forever a whole lot better if I could find a way of getting over him.
“Adam always liked your drama. That bothered me. And there was enough crazy to destroy a small village, but he liked that too.”
“Yeah, well, you told me to take intensity over longevity, remember?” My voice took on a defensive edge and he was instantly remorseful, flinching as if I’d reminded him of something terrible.
“I’m going to tell you something. I want you to remember it always, okay?” I nodded. He continued without pausing. “On your travels you’re always going to have three choices.”
“Only three?”
“There’s only three that I’m comfortable with.”
“Okay.”
“If you’re ever unsure, you can always come home to me. You can revisit a safe place you’ve been to, or you can find your way to Adam.” He ticked off my options on his fingers as he spoke.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“They’re the only three I’m comfortable with, Charli,” he repeated. “If you remember those options, I’ll feel much better about taking a step back from the tree.”
“You’re not going to try catching me this time?” I teased.
“I don’t think you’re going to need me when you jump this time.” Alex looked straight at me. “This time, I think you’re going to fly.”
29. Magic
It’s amazing how quickly a plan can come together when there isn’t actually a plan.
We were bound for Mauritius. Mitchell and Ethan had been there the year before, and after hearing Mitchell’s stories of white beaches and endless sunshine, I was getting excited.
Saying goodbye to Alex was every bit as hard as I expected. We stood in the front yard and hugged each other harder and longer than we ever had before.
“You’re the very best part of me, Charli. I love you,” he whispered, choking on the words.
I searched my heart for something I had never said before, wondering if the words would sound wrong. “I love you, Dad,” I whispered.
I felt Alex buckle. He held me tighter and I knew that to him, those four words sounded perfect. I wrestled free, unwilling to prolong the agony.
Big things awaited him too. By Christmas, Gabrielle and Alex planned to be in the south of France. I’d pulled her aside the night before and made her promise to make sure he went through with it.
“I will give him no choice,” she said, looking ferocious. I believed her. Alex’s no-compromise policy didn’t seem to apply to Gabrielle. He was capable of moving heaven and earth for her, and with me gone he’d be more likely to do it.
I refused to let Alex drive us to Hobart. There was no point dragging out a long farewell. We took my car instead, which turned out to be a coup. Next to the airport, amongst the car rental companies, was the junkiest car yard in existence. The shifty-looking salesman handed me two hundred bucks and a stomach-churning wink in return for my little car. It was another goodbye I was sad to make.
My old life was fading very quickly.
After a quick flight, we were in Melbourne. We made our way to the international airport terminal. That was where my naivety began to get the better of me and I had to ask Mitchell for help. I had no idea about filling out a departure card or clearing customs, but he was an old pro. After helping me with mine, he completed his card in seconds, including his passport number, which he knew by heart.
Once we were on the plane I began to relax a little. Sleep on the long flight was impossible, for me anyway. Mitchell was dozing before we’d even taken off. I passed the time reading for a while, confident that in case of an emergency I’d read the passenger safety card enough times to be able to save my own life – ignoring the thirty thousand foot nosedive into the sea, that is.
The elderly lady to my right was chatty, and I appreciated the company. Her English was fractured and I recognised her accent instantly.
“Are you French?” I asked, accusingly.
The lines on her aged face crinkled as she smiled. “Mauritian Creole. My name is Heloise.”
I frowned as I shook her hand, convinced that the French language was taking over the world. “My name is Charli.”
Heloise snickered in a way that made her frail body shake. “You have a boy’s name,” she said.
I took no offence. “My father named me after a spider,” I told her, making her cackle again.
We were quiet for a while. It was Heloise who spoke again, to ask my reason for travelling to Mauritius. I hadn’t taken me long to work out she was hard of hearing. Explaining my lifelong dreams of travel would have been an ordeal, so I summed it up in one word. Surfing.
“I will draw you a map, for the big waves,” she told me, pinching her thumb and forefinger together, pretending to write in the air.
Thrilled at the prospect of finding a surf beach that Mitchell didn’t know about, I reached under my seat for my bag, fossicking around in it for pen and paper. The only paper I could find was the envelope Gabrielle had given me. Inside it was Adam’s letter.
She’d promised me a passing grade if I translated without cheating. Was asking Heloise to translate cheating? Perhaps it was bending the rules – but I did it anyway.
“It will be broken,” she told me, referring to the difference in dialect.
“No worries,” I assured her, unfolding the letter.
Heloise reluctantly took it and began to read.
At first, I couldn’t understand Gabrielle’s eagerness for me to read it. Adam wrote about his first few weeks in law school, his family and his friends. It was lovely to hear – but not meant for me. None of it was meant for me; but there had to be a reason the pushy Parisienne insisted that I read it.
Heloise got to the last paragraph. I could tell by the way she touched each word with her finger as she read. Slowly, she translated and I pieced together the grammatical gaps.
“How is Charlotte? It seems strange to ask. I think of her every day and the strangest things remind me of her. I arrived home to find a new painting hanging in the foyer of our building. It’s huge, Gabi. Most would see a vase of orange tulips. I stare at it like an idiot, seeing a hotel for fairies.”
Heloise frowned perhaps doubting her translation. I tried to gather my thoughts, but it defied logic. Our garden had never been home to orange tulips before, yet for the past few weeks I’d seen them every time I left the house. Whenever Adam left his house, half a world away, he saw them too.
Pointing to the letter, I prompted her to continue.
“Please tell her I love her. It’s purely for my benefit, not hers. Wait until she’s sleeping. She won’t argue the point with you then.”
My chest felt tight. I glanced around to see if anyone else looked like they were about to implode. I expected little yellow oxygen masks to start dropping down. Nothing. I was the only one experiencing bone-crushing air deprivation.
“You are Charlotte?” asked Heloise, tapping the page.
I nodded, unable to speak. “The boy loves you.” She spoke gently, perhaps sensing my distress.
“He does,” I agreed, shakily.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
She leaned back in her seat, brought her hand to her chest and patted her heart. “A girl of courage would fight for him,” she said.
By the time we landed I was exhausted, physically and mentally. Mitchell, having slept for hours, was raring to go. We cleared customs, grabbed our luggage and stumbled out into the sunshine.
“Hurry up, Charli. You’re a long way from where you need to be,” griped Mitchell, realising I was lagging behind. He meant the long walk to the cab rank but I interpreted it differently.
I was nine thousand miles from where I needed to be. Trekking to New York was always going to be wrong. It was crazy. But everything I’d ever shared with Adam was magic.
There was an unwritten rule in La La Land. Magic trumps crazy every time.
The End.
Please turn the page to read an excerpt of Second Hearts, Book two of the Wishes Series.
Second Hearts
Saving Wishes Page 26