Julia has too many good qualities to count. She’s caring and compassionate, funny and adventurous, and good at reading people too. Especially me. Today I’m not counting that on her good qualities list. Today I want to be overlooked. I’m tired, cranky, and seeing things that don’t exist. Or might not exist. But they could exist.

When I thought Eric Prince was sending me threatening letters, I could handle that. He had an excuse, and at least I knew who it was, or who I thought it was, anyway, but a female? I never saw that coming. The other letters were written in all caps. I assumed it was him, because who else would write those words? There was a weird comfort in knowing who was doing it, and now that’s gone. Before, I looked harder at every man who crossed my path, making certain I was safe from Eric Prince. Now I have to look harder at everyone.

Not Julia. This is the third time she has hugged me since I arrived this morning to help her with last minute parade details. I haven’t told her it’s my birthday. Walt drove me here, and I didn’t tell him either. Julia is hugging me because she senses my feelings.

She pulls back from the hug and doesn’t say anything about it. Just goes right on talking with her little clipboard and the checklist I made for her. We’re both wearing the T-shirts I told her to make. I distributed them to shop owners around town, and talked Mary and Cassidy into wearing them for their shifts. The owner of the cafe let all the waitresses wear them, and they said everyone who came in was asking about the parade. Julia was ecstatic when she heard that.

She’s reading off the to-do items on the list when a guy with a camera around his neck taps her on the shoulder.

“Hi, are you Julia?” With a thumb, he points behind himself to a group of people standing off to the side. “They said you’re in charge.”

Julia pushes back her shoulders and pulls the clipboard into her chest. “I’m Julia. Can I help you with something?”

The guy extends a hand. “I’m Craig. I work for the Arizona Times. They sent me up here to cover your parade.”

Julia’s eyes widen. Her fingers grip the sides of her clipboard as she struggles to maintain her cool. “The Arizona Times?”

Craig grabs the yellow lanyard from around his neck and holds it out. Dangling from the end is a laminated card with his picture and the name of the newspaper written in large letters. “There’s a section for events around the state. Brighton is making the news with their first annual Fourth of July parade.” He grins and shrugs. “I need some pictures if you wouldn’t mind. Maybe one of you next to a float?”

“Sure,” Julia says, but she stays in place.

Grabbing her arm, I lead her to the Tonolep Farms float. It’s decked out with bales of hay, red and white gingham fabric bunched between the bales, and a cow statue. “Stand in front of this one. People recognize this brand. They sell their milk in all the grocery stores in Phoenix.” I position her so the cow is behind her head. “Act natural. Loosen your grip on the clipboard. Maybe hold it with one hand and put the other one on your hip.” She listens. I back up and let Craig work.

After he has taken a few pictures, Julia motions me over. “You helped plan it too. Without you, the Arizona Times probably wouldn’t have heard about it.”

Craig swings my direction, his camera still in front of his face. I lift my hands. “No no no. This is your project.” Not to mention I don’t need to give my location away.

Craig lowers the camera. His eyes scrunch, his head tilts. “I feel like I know you from somewhere.”

I laugh, but the sound is too loud and forced. “I get that a lot,” I say, trying to rein in the alarm slamming through me. “I have one of those faces.”

Craig appraises me for one more second before he gives up and turns back to Julia. He asks her to lead him through some of the other floats and introduce him to other people he can interview.

They walk away, and all the frightened air leaves my body. There is nothing for me to slump against, so I settle for letting my shoulders fall and dipping my head.

Crisis averted.

“Thanks for all your help today,” Julia says as we pull up to my house.

Leaning over the seat, I give her a quick hug. “No problem.”

She pulls back but keeps her gaze on my house. “What’s that?”

I whip around, slamming my elbow on the passenger door. Lying at my front door is a dark red bag of some kind, and next to it are flowers and balloons.

“He remembered,” I murmur, rubbing my elbow.

“Is it your birthday today?” Julia’s tone is incredulous.

I turn back, biting my lip and eyeing her. Her mouth is hanging open and her eyebrows are raised. “Yes.”

“Brynn! You let me go all day without knowing. This is not acceptable. What are you doing tonight?”

I catch myself squirming and force my hands to stay still in my lap. “Seeing Walt.”

Julia lightly smacks her steering wheel. “Saturday night. You and me. Girls only.”

“Sure,” I say, guilt devouring me instantly. I plan to leave Saturday morning. By Saturday afternoon I’ll be on a plane to Dallas, and from there I can go almost anywhere.

“Good,” she nods, smiling.

I open the door and climb out, telling her I’ll see her in two days at the parade. I back up and wave. She pulls away and I walk up to the house.

I was right. It is a bag, but more like a backpack. The flowers are wild, the kind I see growing all over town, and their stems are tied with red and white kitchen twine. My gaze falls on a card tucked under the backpack, just as the breeze sends the balloons bumping into the house. My name is written on the front in Connor’s handwriting. At least I know that for certain.

Scooping everything up, I balance it in one arm and unlock the door with the other. I kick the door closed, glance around, and re-lock it. After dumping everything on the couch, I fill a water glass and place the flowers inside, then go back to the living room.

I start with the backpack. So many zippers, so many compartments. Am I going on a camping trip that I don’t know about? Inside I find mylar blankets, something I can drink through that has a built-in water filter, a first-aid kit, waterproof matches, and a small tool kit.

I’m more confused than ever. Connor didn’t strike me as a guy who needed much direction in the gift-giving department. Maybe I can drop a hint to Julia and she can—

Oh my god.

He’s preparing me.

He’s trying to take care of me after I leave, for as long as he can. He wants to keep me safe.

I grab the card and pull it from the envelope.

Ugh. Knife in the chest. Turn the knife, carve out my heart. Connor loves me. I love Connor. And yet, I’m in greater danger than I knew. By extension, so is he. So is everyone here in Brighton. Connor, Walt, Julia.

I’ll tell him in two days, after his show. I’ll tell him I love him, and I’ll tell him about the door and the note. He should know there is still a threat, that I’m leaving for a good reason.

For dinner I make chicken marsala and two cupcakes, and I take it all to Walt’s. I’m not ready to tell him goodbye, so I don’t. He will be my last stop on my way out of town. Walt sings to me, a gravelly rendition of Happy Birthday, and it’s the best song I’ve ever heard. When I get home, my heart is more conflicted than ever, even though I know what I have to do.

That night, I sleep with Connor’s note under my pillow.