Page 119 of Find My Way Down to You

On my way out, I pause at the front counter. Max refusesto meet my eyes. She pretends to be busy wrapping napkins around silverware.

I shoulder through the front door without looking back.

Sunbeams cascade through branches thick with green leaves as I walk to the bus stop. State Street Promenade is shaped by the appetite of tourists. Shops are alive with browsers. Diners fill restaurant patios. Noises spill like waterfalls from the gelato shop onto the sidewalk.

When a faded blue beanbag lands at my feet, I look up.

A girl around my age smiles. She’s freckle-faced and fawn-skinned, billowy bronze curls hanging past her shoulders. She picks up the beanbag, then runs back to her boyfriend. A gasp scratches my throat.

He’s tall, narrow-waisted. Salt-crusted brown hair that comes to his chin. Eyes as green as ivy. Skin browned by the sun. But it’s not him.

It will never, ever be him, a haunting voice in my head says.

They kiss, then continue their game of cornhole.

People move around me. But I’m frozen, alone. I could walk the promenade with my eyes closed and not fall. I’ve spent my life here and it has never felt like this. Like I’ve lost my place in its arms.

I did this. To myself. To the ones I love.

Everywhere I turn, the ghost of my life with London follows me. Nothing in Santa Barbara ismineanymore. I have nowhere to go to escape.

Nowhere but—

I plunge my hand deep into my drawstring bag, searching. Blindly, I brush a phone charger, earbuds, my work shirt…

“Shit!”

Something pricks my finger. The sharp edge of a card. I pull it free.

Just like when Henri gave it to me, the card is blank. Black and glittery in the sunlight. A thin trail of my blood runs down the surface.

My breath hitches.

Something else is there. Embossed text so slight it’s unnoticeable at first glance. A trick card you find at a novelty magic shop.

Grimacing, I smear my blood over it until I can fully read what it says.

Henri of Aides

Deathless & World Traveler

1028 State Street

Santa Barbara, CA

17

“You’re here!”

Hereis a squat, pearl white building wedged between an office supply store and a high-end vintage store.On State Street.

Santa Barbara Travelis spelled out in Arial font. The window display has posters of island getaways and mountain destinations, lush city landscapes and whales breaching crystal blue waves. I’ve passed this agency a hundred times before but have never stepped inside.

Beige walls are layered in maps. The carpet is a dull green. Fake palm trees stand tall in the corners. It’s all very unremarkable. Except for the boy emerging from one of the cubicles in a floral-print silk shirt and pinstripe slacks.

Henri smiles roguishly. “It took you long enough.”

I gape. “You…workhere?”