The Past-Life Chronicles

14

After dinner last night, the rest of the evening was shot. Exhausted from waking up so early and the process of traveling, the three of us passed out before we'd even finished flipping through all the local TV stations. We never did find anything good to watch.

Saturday morning greets me with the sound of running water. Curled up on the armchair underneath the blankets, I notice my back is stiff. Inhaling, I stretch it out. The clock on the nearest nightstand tells me it's five minutes past eight A.M.

I glance around the hotel room, regaining my bearings. There's still the sound of the shower running, and my stepbrother is rummaging through his backpack, fully dressed. Must be Mason in the shower.

Mason in the shower... The idea produces a pleasant visual, but Henry interrupts it by saying good morning to me. In response, I yawn.

I hear the water shut off. A couple of minutes later, Mason emerges in blue jeans and a clean white T. He pulls on a black sweater overhead and grins at me beneath his damp hair. My heart rattles in my chest a little, and while it's nerve-inciting, it also comes as a relief.

Not lusting for my stepbrother this morning. That's better...

"Hey, sleepyhead," Mason greets me. "Go get ready and we'll grab some breakfast in the lobby, 'kay?"

Nodding, I shove off the covers and head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Afterward, the water in the shower doesn't take long to heat up. I shower off quickly, towel-dry my hair, and apply a bit of metallic plum eyeshadow and liquid eyeliner before judging myself presentable.

Once we're ready, we take the stairs down to the "complimentary breakfast" in the lobby. It's not much more than some bruised apples, bananas, and lukewarm sausage links I won't touch. I settle on fixing a Styrofoam bowl of cereal with fat-free milk from a paper carton. Hey, at least it's free.

When we're done eating, we head outside to Mason's car. The morning feels brittle, and I wish I would've taken the time to properly blow dry my hair. I zip my coat to the neck and lift my hood to keep my scalp from freezing.

It isn't raining anymore. It's still cloudy and gray, but for the first time, I can actually see the town around us. Flat roads and dormant brown fields stretch for miles. Puddles have accumulated everywhere in the parking lot; it looks like there's been a flood.

Mason unlocks the doors with his key fob. "I think it's almost flatter here than in Middling."

"Here, yes," I say automatically, "but it gets hillier the closer you get to Tennessee and Kentucky." An eerie rush sweeps through me as I watch the clouds collecting on the horizon. How did I know that?

I sense Mason eying me meaningfully, but he evidently decides not to comment. He ducks into the driver's seat, I slip in beside him, and Henry occupies the back. Mason sticks the key into the ignition but doesn't turn it yet. "So...where do we start?"

They're both looking at me now.

"Um..." I clear my throat. "How about the library? Maybe they'll have one of those old newspaper archive things?"

"You mean a microfilm machine?" says Henry.

"Yeah—that." I pull on my seatbelt. "We could look for an article about Susan's accident from the sixties or something."

"Well, hang on." Henry leans forward, his elbows on the center console between us. "What is it you're hoping to find in an old newspaper article anyway, Willow?"

I wrinkle my forehead at him. Shouldn't it be obvious? "I want to know her full name, the date it happened. I don't know, maybe I can find her tombstone or something." Go pay my respects...to myself?