Dinner was an unparalleled success. Every dish was empty, no leftovers in sight, and Gavin barely managed to restrain himself from licking the bowl clean. My ears were, as ever, always on alert, perked for the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, the sight of a flashlight bouncing off the windows, but most of me was present in the moment. Soaking it in.

Underneath the table I threaded my fingers through Gavin’s and I felt his start of surprise. I couldn’t really blame him, not after the way we left things this afternoon. Right then my emotions were a pendulum, swinging back and forth. I was giving my best effort to keep it on the upswing. With any luck I could keep it there until . . . well, until the dream shattered like fine glass. I forcibly restrained my thoughts back from that inevitability.

That moment, I was focusing on the moment.

Rachel leaned back in her chair. “There’s dessert if anyone—”

“Dessert?” Gavin perked up.

She tossed her napkin down on the table. “I made apple pie.”

“Oh.” He grimaced and scrunched up his nose. “I may have . . . eaten that.”

“You don’t say,” Rachel deadpanned.

“Which is why,” Bianca piped up, “I made an extra one. And before you start, baking is not cooking. I make a damn good apple pie.”

“But were the eggs good?” Felix mumbled, almost, but not quite, too low to hear.

“Oh my God.” Bianca’s hand hit the table, making the silverware jingle. “Are you guys ever going to let that go?”

Ben shook his head. “Probably not.”

“I’d say it’s highly unlikely,” Felix said through a smile.

Ian pressed a kiss to her temple. “Highly unlikely.”

“You know, it’s funny.” I took a sip of my water and set the glass back down on the table. “You all poke fun at Bianca, but I bet these lovely ladies all have some fabulous dirt on you.” I widened my eyes.

Bianca’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, you mean like the time I got Ian to wear—”

“No, no.” His hand clapped over her mouth, and spit out a stuttering laugh.

Jules’s smile gleamed. “Or like the fact that Gavin and Felix had a—”

“Oh, hell no,” Felix shouted, practically leveling Gavin with a glare. “Why in God’s name would you tell her that?”

“It just came up in conversation.” Gavin waved his hand through the air like he was trying to flick Felix’s question away.

“Came up in conversation? What kind of conversation could you have possibly been having that involved that?”

While Felix fumed and Gavin tried to disappear under the table, I shoved the question over to Rachel. “What about you, Rach? Have any good dirt on Ben?” I admit there was something a little sinister to my smile as he squirmed in his seat.

Her gaze darted from me to Ben and back again. “Umm . . .”

“Rach.” He gave her a pleading look.

“Well, he—” She bit her lower lip. “He wears funny socks.”

In unison, everyone’s gaze dropped to underneath the table.

“For Christ’s sake.” He threw up his hands. “I’m not even wearing shoes.”

Jules tapped a finger against her chin. “What kind of socks are we talking about here? Like My Little Pony or socks with actual jokes on them?”

I covered my mouth to hold back my laughter. My Little Pony socks. For then and always I would forever picture Ben in pink socks with colorful ponies on them. It knocked his intimidation level down about 500%.

Ben shoved away from the table. “Ian’s trotting around in women’s underwear, and Gavin and Felix have had a threesome together, and you’re all worried about my socks?”

Wow, Ian mouthed, with a look he divided between Gavin and Felix.

Gavin screwed up his face at him, with an expression that said, Please, you think I’m embarrassed?

And from Felix, “And how the hell did you know about that?”

Ben scowled at us all. “It’s my job to know.” He strode away from the table, intent on the stairs.

“Ben, wait,” Rachel called after him. His shoulders drooped as he blew out a breath and turned back around. “You can’t go.” The corner of her mouth wobbled. “You guys are on dish duty.”

* * *

My heart was light that night, soft and fluffy like the clouds in a perfect spring sky. I was curled cozily on my mattress, wrapped up in a contentment that surrounded me like a cocoon. Not even the still-raging storm could break through my peacefulness.

A soft tap at the door drew my attention.

“Hey,” Gavin said, stretching out on the bed next to me. His lips found mine, gentle and oh so sweet. “I just wanted to come say goodnight.” His thumb skimmed my cheek.

The mattress groaned as I turned on my side so we were facing each other. I slipped my hand over the curve of his hip, resting my fingertips against his back. “Your fingers are pruny.”

He held one hand up to the light, examining the wrinkled skin. “There were a lot of dishes.”

“Ben help?” I arched an eyebrow at him.

“You bet your ass he did.”

“Good.” I snuggled a little closer to him, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

His lips rested against my skin. “You look like you’re ready to pass out. I should let you get some rest.”

He went to move, but I tightened my grip on him. “Maybe tonight . . . you should stay.”

“Stay?” He drew back so he could look me in the eyes. “What is going on with you tonight?”

My leg found the gap between his so I could scoot closer. “I’m reveling. Just go with it.”

“Are you sure—”

I shook my head, the pillow rustling with the motion. “Don’t make me question it. Not now.”

“Okay.” His fingertips stroked down my bare arm.

Inside, my heart stutter-stepped, clenching. I didn’t want to burst the bubble, but what I wanted even less than that was to hurt Gavin in the process. So, at the risk of my zen I said quietly, “It doesn’t change anything.”

“I know.” He sighed against my hair, his hold on me tightening imperceptibly. “I’m still good with just getting to visit Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” My forehead wrinkled. “What’s that? Like acne for a pig?”

He jerked back, a look of pure horror on his face. “Are you kidding?”

“I never kid about skin conditions.”

His exhale coasted over my skin, smelling of cinnamon and apples. I smiled to myself; he’d gotten his dessert after all. Tucking me closer to his chest he said, “Prepare yourself. I’m about to tell you the most epic bedtime story.”

And he did, whispering words of magic and wizards in my ear. I didn’t last long, I barely stayed awake long enough to hear about a magical hat and a professor that may or may not have been a villain. But the last ones, the very last ones I remembered before drifting off, were about two devoted parents, dying tragically to protect their precious son.

So it was no surprise really, not after everything that happened that day, that the nightmare found me again.

Lightning flashed, the shadow of the window pane stark against the wood floor. Her hands were on my face. Tight. Too tight. “Sweetheart, I need you to get under the bed. Now, right now.” Her fingers were desperate against my nightgown, pulling, pulling.

My knees hurt from the hard floor, the coldness of it seeping through the thin, yellow cotton of my pajamas. Her fingers swept through my hair. “Don’t come out. No matter what you hear, don’t come out. Promise me.”

“I promise, Mommy.” My lip wobbled, hot tears pooling in my eyes. Every part of me was shaking, trembling.

A quick kiss against my forehead, so quick.

And then a fist pounding on the door. Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I pressed small fists over my ears, trying to drown out the yelling. It went on and on, rising and falling. Thunder rumbled and with it came a sharp blast, louder and sharper than anything I’d ever heard before. I jumped as tears streamed down my face.

The timeline skipped and I was in my doorway, breaking my promise.

“Mommy?” I called. “Daddy?”

The floor creaked as I tiptoed forward and rounded the couch. A puddle spread out in front of me, too dark to be water. Her hand wasn’t dark, it was pale, too pale. I screamed and then I was on my knees, hands quivering as I shook her, my tears falling, falling, falling.

Through my tears my gaze drifted to the doorway, to the shadow of the man of nightmares. There and then gone again as blood soaked into my nightgown. As it stained my fingertips, slipped over my hands until there was nothing but the feel of the copper-scented liquid coating me completely, and I was drowning in it.

I woke up screaming, my body tangled up with Gavin’s, my feet twisted in the sheets. Furiously, I thrashed until I was free. My knees hit the floor with a jarring thud, my elbow taking the brunt of my fall. Every breath felt like I was ripping myself apart, my sobs wracked my entire body.

“Dani!” He was on his feet in an instant, the sleepiness from his eyes instantly gone. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His head whipped back and forth as he searched the room.

I scrambled to my feet, my legs barely holding my weight. I couldn’t make it to the bathroom fast enough. My fingers trembled so hard I could barely turn on the faucet, but as soon as the water poured out I shoved my hands underneath the cold stream. Scrubbing, twisting. All the while seeing the dark crimson of my mother’s blood staining my hands, soaked into the grooves of my palms.

From behind me I heard my name, heard Gavin saying it over and over and over.

His hands gripped my upper arms, gave me a slight shake. “Dani, what is it? What the hell is the matter? Tell me. Let me help. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I held out my hands in front of me, water droplets clinging to my fingernails. My entire body shuddered, so hard I was sure even my bones were shaking. “There’s so much blood Gavin. I can’t get it off. I can’t . . .” I wrung my hands together, twisting them so I could feel the hard edges of my bones beneath my skin.

His hands gripped mine, stilling them. “There’s no blood. It was just a dream.” He drew my hands to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.

A bit of the terror dissipated, but behind the nightmare the truth still loomed. I shook my head frantically, tears spilling unnoticed down my cheeks. “It wasn’t a dream. She’s dead, Gav. She’s really dead.”

My legs gave out then and he caught me, cradling me against his chest, carrying me back to the bed though his shirt was soaked with my tears and the water clinging to my hands and arms. He made shushing noises in my ear, rocking me slightly while always repeating, “It’s alright, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

He whispered those words in my ear until my heart stopped racing.

He whispered them until the tears stopped pouring and my breath came easy.

He whispered them until sleep came for him and his voice faded away.

So when my phone went off two hours later, he didn’t feel me slip from his lap or hear me pad across the floor. He didn’t see the hollowness in my eyes as I read: Greetings! Open a door, walk to your other things, enter the ashes thin & bare. Wonder at stars, pray to our stars. He didn’t hear me exhale with relief. He didn’t even stir when I slipped my duffel bag over my shoulder and clicked the door closed quietly behind me because the clock was already ticking. I had hours to comply with my dad’s succinctly worded text: Today. The third spot.