Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I set my phone on the center console, screen down. Forrest handed me back the card.
“Does the clue mean anything to you?” he asked.
“No,” I admitted. “I have no idea what it means.”
“Well, what’s the plan?”
“I don’t know. It took me a while to figure out the first one.”
Forrest cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the road. “I meant what I said. That card is worth a lot. If you want to look at it, you do it with me. No pictures, no copies.”
“You think I’m going to steal it?” I asked, incredulous. For once, I met his gaze without a flinch, pissed off at him all over again.
Forrest’s eyes were guarded as they met mine before moving back to the road ahead. “I don’t know,” he said. “I know you hate me. You’ve made that clear.”
“I don’t—” I started to say, though I didn’t know why. I did hate him.
“Yeah. You do,” he said, his voice heavy. I wanted to think it was with regret. “I get it. I lied. I hurt you. And I can tell you all day how sorry I am, but I know you don’t believe me. I deserve that. If I’d stopped and thought about what I was doing, what was at risk, I would have done everything differently. But it’s too late.”
My chest felt like it was caving in, my eyes hot and stinging. He’d apologized last year when he came clean to all of us, but I’d been too angry and hurt to listen to anything he’d said. He was a liar, and I was done with him. End of story. But now—
I was still hurt. Still furious. But this time, I heard his apology, every word of it. He didn’t make excuses. I believed that he was sorry. And still, I couldn’t bring myself to let him off the hook.
The silence stretched, and Forrest cleared his throat. “Right. So, we’ve established that you hate me,” he said. “And we’re both aware that index card is worth a lot of money. Potentially.”
“Agreed.” Though, I thought he was wrong about the potentially part. I was very sure that card was worth a lot of money.
“Then you understand why I say no pictures, no copies. And if you want to see it, you do it with me.”
I let out a sigh. I couldn’t argue. If our situations were reversed, I’d say the same thing. “Fine,” I agreed. I could do this. I’d solved the first code. Surely, that meant I could solve the next. It was just going to take time. And I realized, with a rush of relief, not all of that time had to be spent with Forrest.
I looked back at the card. The words would point me to the key. And once I figured out what the key was, then I could go back to Forrest and decode the numbers and letters below. I didn’t need the card. I didn’t need the code. I just needed to figure out what the clue meant.
I stared down at the card in my hand, reading the clue over and over, committing it to memory.
A mockingbird on my shoulder, singing with my strings in the Poplars.
I’d let the words rattle around in my brain for a while. They didn’t mean anything. Not yet. But they would.
Handing the card back to Forrest without looking at him, I said, “I’ll let you know when I need to see it again.”
That was the last thing I said to Forrest Powell for seven days.
Chapter Six
STERLING
Five days had passed since my trip to Willow Springs, and I was no closer to figuring out the clue than I had been when I first laid eyes on it.
A mockingbird on my shoulder, singing with my strings in the Poplars.
It was nonsense. But I knew it wasn’t nonsense. It made a very specific kind of sense to Forrest’s father. I just hadn’t discovered what that was. I drifted through the days, going through the motions, my brain turning the clue over and over, inside out and upside down. Still nothing.
It had taken me months to figure out the key to crack the code on the Vitellius. What made me think I’d solve this one any faster? Ugh, I pushed that thought away. Because I could solve it, that was why. I just had to keep trying.
I’d researched everything I could find about mockingbirds and strings and poplar trees. Separately, together, misspellings, literary references. Nothing. I was missing something; I just had no idea what.
Maybe I needed to see the card again. Maybe if…
No. That was the traitorous side of my brain. Or, more accurately, my body. My brain was fixated on solving the clue, but all my body cared about was Forrest Powell.
I’d woken twice in the nights since I’d last seen him, Forrest filling my senses. That trip to Willow Springs was my downfall. I hadn’t spent that much time with him since I’d dumped him. I’d thought I was immune. Didn’t my body remember the heartbreak? The constant ache in my chest, the hollow prickle of tears, the dull pain between my temples—sometimes it had hurt so badly I couldn’t get air in my lungs. I’d thought he was my forever, and he turned out to be another liar. Living with my father, I’d thought I knew all about liars, but Forrest Powell had proven I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was.