Page 52 of A Wolfe in the Woods

I tapped on it and waited with bated breath.

My vision went blurry when I heard her voice cut through the sudden silence.

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s me. Just calling to check up on you…but I think you’re probably busy with that big project. That was this week, wasn’t it? Oh, I’m sure you told me, but I can’t quite remember. Well, I’m just sitting out in the garden. It’s a beautiful day here, but we’re expecting a storm later this week. Lots of rain coming…but it’s been so dry lately, so I think the roses will like it. You should see ’em—the blooms are as big as your head, you smart girl.”

Her chuckle turned into a rasping cough.

Once she stopped, she continued, “Well, I’m just waiting on a friend to take me into town, so figured I’d try calling you while I waited. I know you don’t know your plans for next month yet, but I was hoping you might be able to come and stay for a weekend. I have your room just as you left it. And I could make you all your favorites. Whatever you want. So, you just let me know, sweetheart. But I know you’re busy. Oh, my friend just pulled up. I have to run. I love you, and let’s talk soon, all right? I want to hear how your project went.”

The voicemail ended, and I played it again. And again. And again. I’d make copies of it and saved the files on my computer.Because there was a part of me that feared I’d forget the sound of her voice.

It was the last voicemail she’d ever left me.

I’d been meaning to return her call. The project she’d been talking about had been one of the first that Erik had assigned to me. I’d wanted to make a good impression…but I’d realized quickly how demanding he could be. That week had been hell as I’d tried to wrap it up.

And only a few days after that voicemail, I’d received the call that she’d passed away. In her sleep. Unexpectedly. Here one moment…gone the next.

And I didn’t remember much after that until the funeral. Meg had handled a lot of it, taking charge, which I would forever be grateful for. I remembered getting the call from Gerry, one of my grandmother’s neighbors. After that…I remembered standing at her gravesite.

And I remembered thatI’dnevercalled her back.

A big piece of me had been broken ever since. And I’d numbed the grief and guilt and pain with work. Waking up at dawn and staying at the office until dark. It had been difficult to be by myself because when I was alone, all these dark, terrible thoughts came.

Jonathan had picked open that festering scab, and now I was bleeding again. Only somehow it felt worse. Like he’d held up a mirror and all I could do was stare at myself. There was no escape this time.

And so, I played the voicemail over and over again in my dark apartment, with the sounds of the city outside. On a loop. Until the couch cushion was damp beneath my cheek from my tears, until my stomach was cramping and my body was trembling.

Tonight I would punish myself. I would remember her voice. I would remember that I’d been too consumed in my own life to call her back.

Because tomorrow I’d picked myself back up and try to pretend that Juniper Hollow—or Jonathan—had never happened.

Or, at least, I would try.

Two days later, I sniffed hard, trying to clear my stuffy nose, but it clung stubbornly, that dull congestion settling back in like it always did here, from icy, stale air that never quite moved. But my tissues were on my desk and I desperately needed a coffee refill.

I was jittery, my hands shaking as I poured the lukewarm liquid from the glass carafe. I couldn’t remember if I’d eaten this morning or not. Maybe a little granola bar? Or had that been yesterday?

The fluorescent lights were bright as I maneuvered back to my desk. Just a few more emails to send off and then I could break for lunch.

When I checked my phone, I saw another text from Meg.

Meg: Hot new restaurant just opened in Willowmere. Rave reviews, high end cuisine, and I know the chef. Come with me tonight, my treat!

I sighed. She knew something was up. I’d been dodging her texts trying to make plans. If I declined another invite, she’d just show up at my door tonight and drag me there herself.

I sent a text back:Raincheck for the weekend? Erik has me playing catch up from last week. I’ll be here late.

The truth was…I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to seeanyone. And if I saw Meg, she’d drag the truth about what happened in Juniper Woods out of me, and I wasreallytired of crying.

Truth be told, Iwasa little pissed that she’d pushed for the vacation in the first place, now that the proverbial dust had settled. Everwick had and always would be a sore place for me. Meg knew that. But she’d pushed anyway, thinking it wouldfixme. There was a reason why I hadn’t wanted to go back. Because it brought up emotions I’d never properly dealt with and didn’t knowhowto manage.

Maybe it was misplaced anger. Maybe I just needed someone to blame right now as I was licking my own wounds. But it was also why I’d been avoiding her. I didn’t want to say something I’d regret. And Meg had always been there for me, even if I thought she could be insensitive and bullheaded at times.

Twenty minutes later, my coffee mug was empty and I knew I had to get some food in me or I might pass out on the office flooragain. I grabbed my purse, hoping that Erik wouldn’t return until I got back, and darted toward the elevator bank.

“Heading out?”

I slowed a step. Bernie leaned out from his cubicle, spectacles sliding slightly down his nose as he peered over the partition at me.