Lila
The rain smelled like betrayal.
Lila parked her rusted sedan at the edge of the driveway, her fingers gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. The barn loomed ahead, its red paint peeled to gray, like a scar over old bones. Seven years. Its been seven years since she left Maple Creek, left him , with nothing but taillights and a heart she'd buried somewhere along the interstate.
Now her mother was dying.
The porch light flickered as Lila stepped out, her boots sinking into mud that clung like Judith's resentment. Inside the farmhouse, the air reeked of antiseptic and stale coffee. Judith Hale sat in her recliner, oxygen tank humming like a trapped wasp, her eyes sharp as tacks.
"You look like hell," Judith said by way of greeting. "Still painting those godforsaken murals?"
"Still smoking with oxygen two feet away?" Lila snapped, dropping her duffel. The house hadn't changed, same floral couch, same ashtray overflowing with butts, same framed photo of her father on the wall. Gone for sixteen years, but Judith still polished the glass like he might stroll in for supper.
Judith thrust a key at her. "You'll stay in the barn. Ethan's renting it out now. He'll be by to… supervise. " A cough racked her, and Lila flinched. Guilt tasted like pennies.
Ethan
The barn's new tenant was supposed to be a college kid or a drifter. Not her .
Ethan killed the truck engine, his jaw tight. Through the rain, he watched Lila haul luggage up the barn's steps. Her hair was shorter, hacked at the shoulders, but her shoulders still hunched the same way when she lied.
His niece, Maya, tugged his sleeve. "Uncle Ethan, is that the lady from your stories?"
"No," he lied. Maya's parents, his brother and sister-in-law had died in the fire he'd failed to prevent. Now he raised her, fixed roofs, fought flames, and tried not to think of the girl who'd left a hole in his ribs.
Lila turned. Their eyes met through the downpour.
"Ayah ," Maya whispered. "She look sad."
Lila
The barn was worse inside. A cot, a stove, and a thousand memories. Lila's fingers brushed dust off the windowsill, uncovering a faded ticket stub: Maple Creek Fair, August 15 . The night Ethan had kissed her behind the Ferris wheel, his hands calloused from stacking hay.
A thud downstairs. She froze.
"Brought your rent." Ethan's voice, deeper now, edged with frost. He stood in the doorway, a paper bag in hand. "Groceries. And a radio. Reception's crap, but..."
"Thanks." Her throat closed. The radio crackled to life, static merging with the rain.
Maya bounded in. "Can I show Lila the kittens?"
"Five minutes," Ethan warned.
The girl dragged Lila to the hayloft, where three mewling kittens huddled. "Uncle Ethan found them. Their mom got hit by a car. He cried, but he won't admit it."
Lila's chest ached. He still saves broken things.
Back downstairs, Ethan lingered by the door. "Judith said you're here… indefinitely."
"Until she dies," Lila said flatly.
He flinched. "Right."
Maya tugged his arm. "Lila's nice! Can she come to my play?"
"Maya. " Ethan's tone warned.
Lila stepped closer. "I'd love to."
Their eyes locked again. The radio hissed. Rain tapped the roof like a secret.
Then Maya gasped. From a crack in the floorboards, she pulled a yellowed envelope. Ethan scrawled on the front.
Lila's blood turned to ice. Her handwriting.
"Where'd you get that?" Ethan lunged forward, but Maya had already torn it open.