Chapter 36

How long have I been staring at the ceiling? An hour? Maybe two?

I turn over in my bed at the cabin, pulling the blanket up around me. There’s been an autumnal chill in the air the past few days, strangely early even for Portland. We’re in the last week of July, and already the whisperings of Fall are weaving themselves into the brilliant summertime tapestry of the forest – in threads of gold through the oak leaves, the red-rimmed dogwood, the copper-kissed maples.

Too early. Fall has come much too early.

Somehow, Summer’s almost at an end. And with it, so is my time with Fable.

It’s been exactly one week since Lyall’s birthday. One week since I told my truth. One week since I stood on the cliffs hand-in-hand with Felix saying goodbye to my pain, to my past, to those I lost.

One week of painful, awkward pauses and unbearable silences.