“The man who sat beside you in the bus becomes the voice of the neighbor. The little girl who disappears at the beginning of the book looks like your best friend’s grandchild. You visualize the towns you’ve visited and the restaurants you’ve eaten in. What you love becomes what you love in the book, and the fears of the characters become your own. It’s immersive, but also transient. It’s like when you watch a movie made from a book. It probably doesn’t look exactly like what you thought it would, because you’re seeing the experience another person had with that book.”
“I’ve never thought of it that way,” I say.
Xavier nods. “I’ve heard that before.”
I laugh. “I’m sure you have.”
We settle into silence as I turn to the book in my hands. It’s one I’ve read a dozen times before, but the first sentence feels different. I read it again, and rather than rushing on to the next, I let the words linger. They roll around in my mind, and I think about each one of them before they melt into my thoughts.
“Why are we here, Emma?” Xavier asks.
I look to the end of the couch. He’s still sitting just as he was, his eyes traveling across the words on the pages in front of him in a smooth, continuous sweep. It doesn’t even look as if he’s reading. The movement reminds me of old photocopier machines, where the bright green glow slides from one side to the other to scan what’s on the page. His eyes are just absorbing the words.
It’s the same question he’s already asked, but there’s a shift in the meaning.
“When we were in Harlan investigating Lakyn Monroe’s disappearance and murder, Dean asked me why I was staying in a hotel room, when I could have just rented a house for the time I was going to be there. You answered and said I couldn’t do that because I didn’t want to make Harlan my space. You said people become their surroundings,” I say.
I can still hear his words. “Your surroundings become your identity. They are your reality. You can always hope for something different, or dream that you’re somewhere else. But you are where you are. There’s never a guarantee you’ll be anywhere else. This isn’t where she wants to tie her soul.”
“That’s right,” Xavier says.
“My soul was tied here a long time ago, before I even saw this cabin, and I feel as if I am still trying to figure out the person these surroundings want me to be,” I say.
“So, tell me,” he says. He puts down his book and looks over at me. “Maybe I can find you.”
Chapter Four
Thirteen years ago …
Julia ran up the brick steps of the impressive house, only stopping on the porch for a few seconds to smooth the hair away from her face and straighten her shirt. She didn’t want to look as if she’d run the entire way, even though she was late.
These days, she always felt as if she was running late. No matter how hard she tried to balance everything, it was as if she was never able to stay caught up. There was always something she didn’t get to on time, or something she had to miss because there were a dozen other things she needed to finish.
It hadn’t always been like this. There had been a time when she felt as if she had it all together, as if she had her life under control and could handle whatever was coming. She wished she could say she didn’t know what had happened to change it. At least then, there would be a chance things could turn around and she would be able to claw her way back.
But that wasn’t the case. Julia knew exactly what had shifted. She saw a hill in front of her and climbed to the top. When she was there, she felt as if she could see everything. The world stretched out in front of her. The future she’d envisioned from the time she’d known what it was to see more than a few days ahead was there, in bright, vibrant color. With details so crisp she could have believed they were already real.
Then she slipped.
It was just one moment. At least, it was only supposed to be. She didn’t think anything of it. When it happened, she didn’t even realize what it was. She didn’t know her feet were sliding. She didn’t know she didn’t have the grip she thought she did, or that the force pulling on her was stronger than anything trying to hold her in place. Stronger than her.
So, she fell.
It wasn’t a hard, tumbling fall. The kind that would have left her battered and broken. She didn’t crash down to the bottom and lie there in a heap, not even able to see the peak where she once stood. She could always see it. It was right there, but she couldn’t get back to it.
She never seemed to be able to get her feet back under her. She kept sliding, but the further she fell, the more she scrambled. She tried to claw her way back so she could look out and find her future again. If she could stand there, the ground solid under her feet, she could see what was in the distance and remind herself where she was going. She could see the way.
After that day, the future she thought she would one day have seemed like a different existence to Julia. By now, she should have graduated.
