Page 57 of Haunt Me

I’m still trying to believe that when a compact sedan pulls to the curb.

The Pinecrest Motel looks almost exactly like the photographs online, though the green paint is brighter in person and the pine trees are tall enough to shade most of the parking lot.

The office door chimes softly as I step inside. A petite woman with cropped white hair looks up from behind the counter. Red glasses rest on the bridge of her nose, and a pen is tucked behind one ear.

"You must be Astra."

"I am." My steps slow. “How did you know that?”

"Marge called after your ride picked you up. She wanted to make sure I'd have everything ready when you got here." June taps the side of her head. “Told me your name, that you’re new in town, and that I’d better take good care of you or she’d hear about it.”

"Wow.” I shake my head slightly. “News travels fast around here.”

June nods as she reaches for a key hanging on the wall. "She likes to make sure people land where they're supposed to."

Warmth settles quietly in my chest. "She didn't have to do that."

"No." June smiles. "But that's Margie."

A laugh slips out despite myself.

June slides a registration form across the desk. My pen hesitates when I reach the line for an emergency contact. My mother's number comes to mind first. Then my father's. Neither feels right, so I leave the space blank.

June doesn’t comment when I return the form.

“That’ll be three hundred and eighty-two dollars for the week. That includes housekeeping twice,” she says. “More if you ask.”

That amount barely puts a dent in my available balance. I hand her my credit card, and she runs it through the reader and waits for the receipt to print.

"You're all set." She tears off my copy and slides a real metal key across the counter. A plastic diamond-shaped tag stamped with 27 swings from the ring.

"Room twenty-seven. The stairs are outside to the left. The ice machine's around the corner, and coffee starts at six."

"Thank you."

June points toward the parking lot. “There’s a grocery about a quarter mile east and a laundromat across from it. Behind the motel is a walking path that connects some of the shops out this way if you prefer not to drive.”

“That works out well, since I don’t have a car.”

She tips her head. “No?”

“I’ve never needed one.” I shrug

“How are you planning on getting around?” she asks, genuinely curious.

“I’ll use a rideshare for now.”

June looks over the top of her glasses. “That’ll get expensive pretty quick.”

“It’ll work until I figure out what’s next.”

“Fair enough.”

I wrap my fingers around the handle of my suitcase. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sugar,” she says with a kind smile. “If you need anything, just call the office.”

Room twenty-seven has beige walls, a burgundy bedspread, and a framed photograph of a lake I don’t recognize. A small table sits beneath the window beside two wooden chairs. The bathroom’s clean and the heater hums without rattling.