“Wow, I love this for you,” she squealed. I didn’t remember the last time Mom made that kind of noise.
“It’s new and different and scary,” I confessed.
“Is it good scary? Because it sounds amazing,” she inquired.
The note flashed in my mind. The pool. The way Asher told me not to do anything foolish.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
It was an exhilarating feeling. My heart beat different. Excitement pulsed in my veins at the sight of him. And that might be the most complicated part of all. Mom was quiet for a beat.
“Just promise me something,” she said gently.
“What?”
“Don’t let yourself disappear into grief again if this boy makes you feel alive.”
My throat tightened unexpectedly.
“I won’t,” I said.
Another pause.
“And Claire?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you. For going to Maple Valley. For looking for answers. But I don’t want you losing yourself in it.”
I stared at the dark stretch of road ahead.
“I know.” We said our goodbyes, and I ended the call before she could hear the uncertainty creeping into my breathing.
The main house at Maple Valley came into view sooner than I expected. Lights glowed warmly through the windows. Asher pulled up behind me. I grabbed the note and got out of the car. Maybe this was a step forward in finding out what happened to Sophie. Or maybe it was the closure I’d have to accept.
CHAPTER 18
Claire
The front door opened before we even knocked. Sandy stood there, a warm smile already in place, her gaze moving from Asher to me with easy curiosity.
“You must be Claire,” she said gently. “Come in.”
The house smelled as though something rich and comforting was simmering in the kitchen. It felt lived in, welcoming in a way that made some of the tension leave my shoulders. Asher stepped inside first and I followed.
“Pierre!” Sandy called toward the kitchen. “Asher’s here. And he brought someone,” she added with a knowing smile.
We rounded the corner into the kitchen. A tall man with broad shoulders and silver threaded through dark hair looked up from the table. His eyes settled on me.
“Asher,” he greeted, then paused.
Asher cleared his throat. “Dad… this is Claire. Claire, this is my dad, Pierre Thorne.”
Pierre stood and offered his hand. The grip was firm without being intimidating.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, voice calm and steady.
“You too,” I replied.