IanIan hadn’t looked for Sara before making his way into the bathroom where he’d worked most of the day before.There had been long hours of silence while they worked yesterday, and today was starting out to be the same. He hadn’t heard a peep from Sara since he came in, and he hadn’t made a quiet entrance.The woman working just a few rooms away had been on his mind the entire day, and sometime during the mountains and valleys of his thoughts, he’d decided he should make a point to start calling her Sara. His Liz was gone, and calling her Sara made her a stranger.She was a stranger, really. He didn’t know Liz any more than he knew Sara, so what difference did it make what he called her?He’d silently practiced asking Sara what she wanted him to pick up in town for dinner, or what she wanted for breakfast. In his mind, he’d asked her what she did for a living now and why she’d left in the night when they were eighteen years old.He’d been installing the new flooring for half an hour

IanIan sat in his truck outside of Rusty’s and read the letter again. It’d taken him over forty-eight hours to open Mr. Garrison’s last words, and Ian wished he’d waited longer. He wanted to crumple it up and throw the old coot’s sentiments out the window. Instead, he’d read it a dozen times since.He missed his friend. Mr. Garrison had been a constant in Ian’s life, and he wasn’t ready to let the old man go. They had lunch together every week, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do with his Tuesday afternoons now.But he did know. He’d be spending every hour of daylight at Sara’s place until further notice. His productivity floundered when she was close-by. He made rookie mistakes and had to redo more measurements than he had since learning fractions in grade school.He tossed the letter into the passenger seat and looked out the windshield at Rusty’s. The local bar and restaurant was family friendly until nine, and his friends liked to hang out here. Brian, Leah, Addie, and Lindsey were o

IanIan followed Sara into the house. She moved into the kitchen, and he followed her. She wore no makeup, and her hair hung loose over one shoulder.Everything he wanted to say to her had built up inside of him. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and that he loved her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her like he should have done years ago.He tapped his knuckles on the table three times. Their code would have to change from touch to sound until she trusted him again.Sara gifted him a closed-lip smile and tapped her knuckles once on the counter.When he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he breathed, “I never wanted to let you go.”Sara nodded and bit her bottom lip. “Me either.”All the things he’d been dying to hear from her were meaningless. Those two words were enough for him.Ian fought to control his voice as he said, “Everything that happened between us—and everything that didn’t happen—feels like forever ago, but then, it feels like yesterday.”In truth, nothing felt

Sara didn’t have to look far for the blankets. There was one on the couch and one on the bed that she’d been throwing over her feet at night.She stepped out the back door onto the porch to find that Ian was right. The wind was blowing, and the early spring breeze slashed at her cheeks like knives. She wrapped the blankets around her shoulders and surveyed the backyard. The trees were still leafless, and only faint patches of sky shone through the forest canopy.The rebirth of spring hadn’t taken hold here yet, but it would come in the next few weeks. Until then, she could brave the cold winds for this view. Surrounded by trees and far away from anyone she needed to hide from, the woods held a comfort she craved. Had Mr. Garrison played out here as a kid?Sara turned to examine the deck, and while it seemed sturdy enough, there wasn’t anywhere to sit. She stepped back inside and grabbed an old chair from the living area. It was wooden with scrolling arms and padding on the seat and ba

IanIan’s insides churned as Sara continued her story. It took everything he had not to vomit in the bushes beyond the deck railing.Sara went on. “The cops came, and I remember hearing them at the door and screaming until my lungs hurt. They got my dad and Kenny, but Owen wasn’t there, and even with my testimony about what Trisha had told me, he wasn’t convicted. There wasn’t anything to tie him to what happened, except Trisha’s word.”Standing, Ian leaned against the deck railing to face her. He’d been quiet throughout the story, but every emotion warred inside him. Anger, rage, disgust, fear. What had happened to her was worse than he’d imagined.She was beauty from ashes, a flower rising from a crumbled ruin. She was resilience in human form, and it was a miracle that her small shoulders could bear the weight of the pain of her past.“The cops finally took me home after I gave statements, but I asked them to take me to Mr. Garrison’s house. I couldn’t go home alone.”Ian let his c