Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
His dead parents … and dead little brother.
Tristan said he took care of it. Burned everything down. It was all relayed to Kyle secondhand in newspaper articles. It was a small enough story that it only seemed to make local news. If there was much else to say about it, Tristan spared him. Kyle was already a mess about everything else. Why would he need to ask about the fire?
He still thinks about his letterman jacket in the dumpster. What items he might have left behind at school. What really happened to Brock in that locker room.
“Oh, your face … I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”
Kyle snaps out of it. “No, no,” he quickly insists. “It’s fine.”
“You totally went somewhere just now.” She reaches for his hand across the desk, takes it, squeezes. “Hey, I’m just a lonely person with too much time on her hands, who has to make up things to occupy her time. I’m no damned magical forsooth or, or, or psychic medium, whatever I’m deluding myself into … please just forget it, forget everything I said.”
“Cade …”
“I have an imagination. That’s what my gran told me, every morning when I’d share my dreams … And look at me now! Nothing much changes. Just forget what I said.” She lets go of his hand and instantly starts closing up books and stuffing away her notes. “Maybe she made it all up, too, sending me on this wild goose chase for who-knows-what …”
Kyle puts a hand on top of Cade’s, stopping her.
She looks up.
Kyle’s mind remains transported as he speaks. “There was this old psychic lady I went to when I was a kid. I was thirteen. It was Halloween. Was supposed to be taking my little brother out trick-or-treating, but we went there instead with a buddy of mine—Brock, the guy you met here a few nights ago.”
“Oh, that loud, obnoxious drunk?”
Kyle smiles wryly. “The psychic … she told me I would live a long, long life. She told my little brother he would live long, too. She said my buddy would have a wife, a son, and a best friend … and abandon them all.”
Cade makes a face. “She said all of this dark shit to a bunch of kids? What kind of fucked up fortune teller is this?”
“Two of those three things came true. I’m living a long life. Brock … has a wife and son, and if I can be so bold as to assume I’m the best friend … then yes, he’s abandoned them all. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but I’m telling you, I felt something from her. I still wonder if she might’ve been real. What I’m saying, Cade, is you shouldn’t be so quick to doubt stuff we can’t explain. Can we explain the magic of the stars? Of gravity? Of life itself?”
Cade shrugs. “Actually, yes, it’s called science.”
Kyle squeezes her hand. She must see the sincerity in his eyes, because all humor flees her face. “Please don’t give up on looking for answers. Keep reading those books. Keep being the private eye on your own life. Cade … I believe in you.”
She is visibly struck.
Her emotions become a musical instrument, a harp, and a perfectly pleasant chord has just been expertly strummed, the notes ringing out with clean, perfect harmony.
“Keep dreaming,” says Kyle. “I may never understand the full reality of what I am … or what I can do with my own gifts. But every day, they get better, they become more focused. You will, too, Cade.”
“Just stop, you’re gonna make me cry.” She lifts a hand to shield her eyes, then lets out a sudden laugh. “Oh, Kyle. Your heart is so full. There is a reason … a reason I have always felt such a connection with you.” She drops her hand and takes his, her eyes watery and happy. “Never doubt your own humanity, Kyle. No matter what anyone in this world calls you, no matter what you call yourself. Remember this moment when you made me cry.”
Kyle smiles as appreciation fills the cozy office. Is it just his own emotions, or both of theirs, that his Reach is sensing?
In moments like these, he wonders how he could possibly have thought he had no one in this world. This dusty, dry town of Nowhere has proven over and over how good life can be.
Then the office door flies open. Kyle turns to find the stiff, uniformed Juan Rojas standing there—Jeremy’s dad, the police chief. He is a man of few smiles whose presence in any room is noticed immediately, with his keen, ruthless eyes, harsh facial features, and permanently creased forehead. He shuts the door, then zeroes upon Kyle. “We’re talking about it. Now.”
Cade sighs. “Juan, really? At your son’s birthday party?”
He eyes her. “We’re doing this so we can continue having birthdays at all.” Then he turns onto Kyle. “I’ve been generous, haven’t I? To let you be your happy carefree self for a few days? Kick back here at the bar with your big criminal boyfriend? To pretend like nothing’s wrong?”