Page 15 of Camera Stays On

Just then, he came through the front door.

“Sorry, the neighbor’s dog got out, and I was helping Mrs. Wilson catch it.”

“You’re going to star in the movie?” I lifted my eyes from the list. “And...” I wasn’t quite sure how to vocalize my thoughts. I inhaled deeply. “Andi too?”

Sawyer noticed the paper in my hand and stormed over, snatching it from me. He plopped down onto the couch and leaned forward, examining the papers.

“Yes, I’m going to be in it. I need to be able to direct the conversations in real time. And you will be too. You’re the only one I can trust to see my vision.”

I stood, looming over his shoulder. “And Andi? Last I heard, she wasn’t interested in talking to you, let alone doing this.”

He huffed and looked away. “I’m gonna get her. Ash, this has been my dream for so long. Our dream.” He motioned between us. “We spent our childhood planning to make a movie together—you, me, and Purdy. It doesn’t feel right to do this without her.”

“And how do you plan on finding her?” I could feel the anger rising in my chest and knew I needed to rein it in. “I thought we were done with this whole Purdy thing.”

“I’ll never be done with Purdy.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Why? Do you have a problem with her coming back? I’m the one she left at the altar.”

What? I cocked my head and realized why he was looking at me suspiciously. We’d had conversations about Andi returning over the years, and I’d never had this kind of visceral reaction. That would be suspicious. But I was still hurt about her leaving me in the dust.

Apparently, he was too.

I rubbed my stubble and pulled back my emotions. “No, it’s just—I don’t want you to hold on to something if she’s not in the same place.” I swallowed. It was a lie, mostly. I didn’t want him to hold out—because I wanted her.

“Don’t worry about Purdy and me.” The air around us fell still and slightly awkward. He shrugged and looked away. “Anyway, I’ve got some ideas. Some friends over in the Chicago area. I’m going to find her. I’ll convince her to come back.”

“And if she refuses?” I tried not to push too hard, but my brother was delusional. Andi wouldn’t be returning to Collingwood.

Not for him.

Probably not for me either.

And certainly not for the rest of her life being called Purdy.

A slow, chilling grin spread across his face. “She won’t. I’ve got a plan. She won’t have a choice but to come back with me. Things will be different this time.”

His face hardened with determination before a flicker of vulnerability replaced it, which he pushed away just as quickly as it appeared. It made me raise my eyebrows.

To the town of Collingwood, Andi was the villain in their breakup. But Sawyer’s loud, public shaming of her that day was just one piece of a larger puzzle. It painted him as a jaded man worth sympathy. Only Andi and I truly knew the depths of the darkness inside my brother. Not even Sawyer knew himself, I thought at times.

I took in his words and patted him on the back. “Well, best of luck, I guess. If I were a betting man, I’d be tempted to lay some money down. Come on—I need a drink. You can tell me about the rest of the crew after we drop the dogs off at Ma’s and head to the bar.” I went to the door, grabbing my keys.

“You’ll see. Purdy and me? Our story isn’t over.”

I paused, my hand on the door handle. For a moment, I was ripped through time, back to that night at the movies.

I’d just watched my first kiss get her second kiss from my baby brother, tearing my heart into a million pieces. I’d never forgotten the words he’d said to her.

“You’ll always be mine, Purdy.”

Chapter 6

Andi

“ONE FOR THE matinee, Miss Andi.” Kenny—an older white gentleman with a full head of hair and mouth full of teeth, very Dick Van Dyke—nodded to me from the other side of the glass. He pulled out his wallet, making pleasantries as I printed out his movie ticket. “How are you this afternoon?”

“I’m good, Kenny. How’ve you been? I missed you,” I teased, sliding his ticket through the hole and putting his cash into the drawer.

“Ah, you know me. My routine never changes.” He took the ticket and stepped back, reaching into his suit jacket for his cigarette case.