Chapter 92 TYLER
The next morning came too fast.
I barely slept, and when I did, my dreams were crowded with half-formed worries and Harper’s face slipping just out of reach every time I tried to speak to her. By the time sunlight crept through my curtains, I was already awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the house come alive around me.
The minutes crawled, stretching longer the more I checked the time. Morning felt like an obstacle I had to get through instead of something to wake into. My thoughts were already racing ahead, skipping the drive, skipping the small talk, landing squarely on the moment I would finally see Harper and find out whether everything I was worrying about actually mattered.
I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up, careful of my arm as I stood. The sling was still annoying, still a reminder that I couldn’t do much even if I wanted to, but today it barely registered. I showered quickly, dressed, and shoved what I needed into my bag without much thought.
By the time I stepped into the kitchen, Peter was already there, leaning against the counter and eating cereal straight out of the box. Jacob sat at the table with his chin propped in his hand, looking painfully bored as he poked at a slice of toast.
“You guys look way too awake for a weekend trip,” Jacob said, squinting at us. “Don’t people usually sleep in before stuff like this?”
Peter grinned. “That’s because it’s not a weekend. It’s a full week. Plenty of time to sleep.”
Jacob’s eyes lit up instantly. “Then I should come.”
I froze mid-step.
Mom turned from the sink. “Jacob.”
“What?” he said quickly. “You guys are leaving, and the house is gonna be boring all week. I already did my homework. There’s literally nothing to do.”
Peter laughed. “You’re eleven.”
“So?” Jacob shot back. “I’m not a baby. I can help carry stuff or whatever.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Peter stepped in before I could figure out what to say.
“It’s a seniors thing,” he said, more serious now. “You’d hate it. Trust me.”
Jacob frowned. “You always say that.”
“And I’m always right.”
Mom dried her hands and looked at Jacob.
“You can stay with Aunt May this afternoon if you want. She said she was baking.”
Jacob groaned. “That’s worse.”
Peter leaned down, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “If you come with us, you’d be stuck listening to people talk about exams, sports injuries, and relationship drama for seven days straight.”
Jacob paused, clearly considering that.
“Also,” Peter added, “there will be no Wi-Fi.”
That did it.
Jacob sank back in his chair. “Fine. Whatever. Have fun freezing in the woods.”
“Thanks,” Peter said cheerfully.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, guilt pricking faintly but not enough to slow me down. As soon as we stepped outside, the air felt different, crisp and cold in a way that reminded me how far north we were heading.
Peter tossed our bags into the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat like this was his moment. Music blasted the second the engine started.
“I’ve been waiting for this all week,” he said, pulling out of the driveway. “No school. No parents. Just a cabin, questionable food choices, and people pretending they know how to survive in the woods.”
I leaned back in my seat, watching the houses blur past. “You sound excited.”
“Because I am excited. You should be too.”
“I am,” I said, even though it came out slower than I meant it to.
Peter glanced at me. “You’re thinking about Harper.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.”
“She texted. That's good, right?”
“Maybe,” I said. “It just felt off.”
Peter shrugged. “She said she would be there.”
“With Mark.”
He shot me a look. “As expected. At least now we know she's not avoiding you.”
I stared out the window. “I know.”
The drive stretched on, Peter filling the silence with commentary about everything from the music to who he hoped would show up late so they would have to do extra chores. I half-listened, my thoughts drifting back to Harper again and again. I pictured her arriving later, tired but smiling, brushing it off like she always did. I told myself I was overthinking it.
The cabin came into view just after noon, tucked between tall trees and surrounded by a clearing already dotted with cars. People were milling around, laughing, unloading bags, calling out to each other.
Peter parked and hopped out immediately. “We made good time.”
I stepped out more carefully, adjusting the strap of my bag on my good shoulder. The smell of pine and cold air filled my lungs. Kane’s cousin’s cabin was bigger than I expected, old wood and wide windows, smoke curling faintly from the chimney.
Kane himself waved from near the porch. “You guys came early.”
“Obviously,” Peter said. “Some of us are responsible.”
Kane snorted. “Grab some gloves. We’re splitting wood and cleaning up.”
Peter groaned loudly. “I knew there was a catch.”
I grabbed gloves anyway, though I didn’t get very far before someone stopped me and pointed at my sling.
“Yeah, you’re useless right now,” Kane said bluntly. “Go sit.”
I didn’t argue.
I hovered nearby while people worked, listening to Peter complain under his breath as he hauled wood and kicked snow off the porch with his boot. I barely noticed, too busy scanning faces, waiting, until I saw Mark step out of the cabin, talking to Kane’s cousin, looking relaxed in a way that made my stomach drop. I hadn’t expected him to be here yet.
I walked over, keeping my tone light. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming early.”
Mark smiled. “Yeah. I figured I would get settled.”
“How're your bruises? You out of pain now?”
“Ah, nothing a little painkiller can't handle,” Mark said, shrugging.
“Cool.”
I knew asking about Harper might seem too soon or eager but she was the real reason I'd come, I just couldn't help it.
“Where’s Harper?” I asked casually, like I hadn't been thinking about it nonstop for two days.
Mark hesitated. Just a second, but it was enough.
“She’s sick,” he said. “She told me to go ahead. Said she would join us when she feels better.”
“Oh,” I said.
Something twisted in my chest.
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“She said it was nothing serious,” Mark replied. “Probably just exhausted.”
I nodded, even though my instincts screamed otherwise. Harper hated being sick. She hated missing things. She would’ve told me if it was nothing.
I stepped away before he could say anything else, my mind racing. If she was sick, why didn't she mention it when she texted? Why did she wait until everyone was going away to admit she was sick?
Peter found me near the edge of the snow-dusted clearing. “You look like you’re about to commit a crime.”
“Mark said she’s sick.”
He blinked. “That’s it? So she’s not coming?”
“She told him to go without her. She’ll come when she feels better.”
“Maybe she just needs rest.”
“Harper doesn’t just disappear without saying something,” I said quietly. “And she wouldn’t miss this—much less give a generic excuse after not showing up or talking to anyone for over two days.”
Peter studied me. “What’re you thinking then?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”
He stared. “Dude. You just got here.”
“I know.”
“You’re seriously going to drive all the way back?”
“I have to.”
Peter sighed, then nodded. “Okay.”
I looked at him, surprised. “That was easy.”
“You’ve had that look since yesterday,” he said. “If you stay, you’ll be miserable. And if something is wrong, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
I swallowed. “She might not want to see me.”
“So don’t give her a choice,” he said simply.
I left before anyone could stop me, heart pounding as I walked back to the car.
Whatever Harper was dealing with, I wasn’t w
aiting around anymore.
If she wouldn’t let me come to her, I’d make her come to me.