Page 85 of Anomalies

A door swings open on the far end of the space, the chirp of crickets pouring in for only a moment before it shuts again, and a set of heavy boots thud against the tile.

“Cal.” Pax drops a petal, our laughter forgotten, and the Captain steps out of the shadowed corner and into the amber lighting.

He’s wearing the same clothes he had on this morning, and his vest hangs loose around his shoulders. His stubble is dark around his jaw, which is clenched tight as he swings his silvery stare from Pax to me, then to the bowl in front of us.

Our laughter seems to echo around us still, lingering in the sudden silence, and I wonder if the Captain heard us laughing. Not that it matters.

“Where were you?” Pax asks when Callan remains silent.

“Out.” His reply is curt, and when his eyes meet mine again, anger flares deep in my chest. I move to stand, dusting my hands off with a nearby napkin. “Lucina, wait,” Callan says, but I don’t acknowledge him.

“Pax, can you take me back to the Tavern, please?”

“Lucina,” Callan says again, and Pax’s stare darts between us.

“What’s going on between you two?” he asks.

I roll my eyes to the ceiling, feeling the weight of the Captain’s stare, but neither of us responds.

“Oh, come on.” Pax throws his hands up. “Not even twenty-four hours ago, Phoenix and I caught the two of you⁠—”

“He lied to me,” I blurt out before Pax can finish that sentence.

“I did not lie to you, Lucina, I made a mistake.”

I pelt him with an icy stare. “By lying to me.”

Pax’s brows rise, then his attention swings to Callan for a retort, but the Captain says nothing. “Right…” Pax sighs heavily, averting his attention to me. “Lucina, maybe you should hear him out.”

“You don’t know what he did, Pax.” My teeth grind. I can out what the Captain did right now. I can expose the rule he agreed to break for me. But I told Callan I wouldn’t tell anyone about the letter, and unlike him, I keep my promises. If I broke it now, I’d be a hypocrite.

The Captain takes his eyes off me only to look at his friend. “Lucina asked me a month ago to take a letter to her family in the commoner land. I told her I would, and I didn’t. I’m here to make it right.”

Pax’s eyes widen, and I’m rendered speechless. Callan leans casually against the counter in front of us, arms folded across his chest and a stoic look on his face. He made the truth sound so simple.

I force in a deep breath, blinking away a sudden rush of fury-induced tears. I can tell Pax is drowning in the tension that sullies the air even before he says, “I hope you can back that up, Cal.” Then he leaves, the door to the Tavern swinging closed behind him.

I wait for him to speak, my feet frozen to the tile, but the Captain doesn’t say a word as he crosses the space between us. He comes to a steady stop before me, digs into a hidden pocket on the side of his vest, and pulls out a wrinkled letter.

My letter.

I roll my eyes up to him when he holds it out for me to take. “I don’t want this⁠—”

“Read it.”

“I wrote it.” I yank it out of his hands, moving to shove it into my pocket, but he catches my wrist. It isn’t painful, and it isn’t violent, but it’s a firm hold that keeps my hand in place, the letter pinched between my fingers.

“Read the other side of it.”

I inhale to retort, but the breath dies in my lungs when I unfold the page and flip to the scribbled writing on the back.

Cin,

I thought we agreed that if we were to fake our deaths, we’d do so together. Though, as hard as these last few weeks have been, I can’t say I blame you. Callan tells me you’ve been happy there—well, until you found the letter he never brought us. (I let him hear it already, don’t worry.) He seems honest…you don’t get that a lot⁠—

“No, this isn’t—” My voice comes out distant, a lump in my throat preventing me from speaking properly, and the tears welling in my eyes make the page blurry. It trembles in my hands. The handwriting…I know this handwriting…

“Keep reading,” Callan urges softly.