Page 36 of The Route to You

“Right now? I’m at breakfast with Kyle.”

Kyle glanced at Davy, whose voice had taken a more serious tone.

Davy nodded along with whatever information her father was relaying, her eyes troubled. “All right. I’ll be right there.”

Kyle’s stomach sank.

She scooted to the end of her booth. “I have to go,” she said, taking out her wallet. She tossed a twenty down on the table, then grabbed the tux rental bag he’d brought.

“Something happen?”

Davy frowned, her face drawn. “Convince Sloan to talk to Evan soon, please. For all our sakes. Evan’s filed a missing persons report.”

Kyle stared at her. “Fuck,” he breathed.

11

SLOAN

As the stylist set down the curling iron, she grinned at Sloan. “All set.” She spun her chair toward the mirror. “What do you think?”

For a few seconds, Sloan could only blink at her reflection. Then came the goose bumps.

Her hair, a deep chestnut brown close to her natural color, was startlingly different.

As for the girl in the mirror . . . Sloan wasn’t sure she recognized her anymore.

She’d started highlighting her hair in college, lightening it here and there to “add dimension.” Over time, dimension had turned into an entire identity. Lighter and lighter and lighter. Until the brunette she’d been didn’t exist anywhere outside old photos.

Her mouth dried. “I love it,” she managed, even though she wasn’t sure if she completely meant it.

“It’s totally you,” the stylist said, squeezing her shoulder. “The blond was pretty, but this really brings out your natural features and eyes.”

Sloan gave her a practiced smile, thanked her, and gathered her things, but as she made her way over to the front desk to pay, she caught sight of herself in another mirror and her heart stumbled.

I look like a completely different person.

This light. That angle.

She looked like her mother.

Her mouth went dry and she tore her gaze away.

She paid the bill, feeling ashamed that her first worry as she swiped Kyle’s card was what happens if this declines? But it didn’t and, as she turned to exit, she shoved that thought away with everything else she’d shoved away in the last twenty-four hours.

As she turned to leave, she saw Kyle approaching on the sidewalk, a large plastic bag in hand.

He lifted his head and their eyes collided.

And he stopped.

Not like a tiny hitch in his step. Not a polite pause. A full stop.

Something flickered in his expression—shock, maybe—like he’d taken a step into a memory without warning.

Her heart squeezed hard— oh no.

The last time he’d seen her before Vail, she’d probably looked more like this. Less polished. Less . . . curated. Maybe the blond version was easier to forgive.