Page 5 of Three Months Yesterday

As if forcing someone to make something creative has ever turned out well.

“You need to get out of the city,” Ryan declares.

“What?”

“Yeah.” He stands from his seat, placing his coffee on the end table beside him before pulling his phone from his pocket. “You need to get out of the city. Away from all the reminders of everything causing you stress.”

“And where do you suggest I go?”

It might be crazy, even entertaining the idea of getting out of the city, especially with a stalker on the loose, but I can’t lie. The idea of going somewhere else sounds appealing.

“A small town somewhere,” he murmurs, completely distracted as he types on his phone.

“What?” I gasp, leaning forward and placing my own cup on the table in front of me.

It takes Ryan a few minutes, but he finally looks up at me, a massive grin stretched across his face. “We grew up in a small town, you know exactly what I mean.”

“I’m not going back to Harborview, Ryan. That’s the last thing I need.”

It’s not like I haven’t been back to Harborview since the accident. I have, but it’s not the place I find comfort—not anymore.

“I’m not talking about Harborview.” Ryan shakes his head, his words pulling me back to the present before I can go down that path. “I’ve got a friend whose family owns a little inn in Pennsylvania. It’s the perfect place for you to escape for a few months.”

“An inn? Like a bed and breakfast? That doesn’t sound relaxing to me.”

“Yes and no.” He collapses back onto the couch, his eyes bright with excitement. “There is a bed and breakfast, but it’s more like a retreat. They have a few cabins and activities around the land. I’m telling you, Beck, it’s exactly what you need.”

I have no idea if this is the right thing, but the idea of getting out of the busy city and into a calmer town with fewer people is far more alluring than I thought when Ryan first suggested it. I know it’s going to take some serious convincing with my team, but I think Ryan’s right—this is exactly what I need.

“All right. Call your friend.”

“You’ve reached Sadie. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Sadie’s voice sounds through the phone, making me chuckle.

I’m not surprised she didn’t answer, considering the reason I’m calling—I expected her voicemail. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to pass up the chance to give her a hard time.

“Look, I’m bored and I gave you until ten. Call me back, Sadie! I want to hear about what happened last night. I saw the truck still parked outside this morning. An overnight guest? And on Thanksgiving, just days after you got home from Australia no less!” I laugh as I end the call, tucking my phone back in my sweater pocket as I walk up the porch steps to the inn.

Sadie Winslow may not be my sister by blood, but she’s my sister in every way that matters, and I know while I’m giving her a hard time about not instantly telling me a certain someone showed up at her door last night, she’s going to give me a hard time about going out of my way to drive past her place this morning—not that I actually went out of my way. But teasing each other is what we do.

The smile doesn’t fade from my lips as I step in the front door of the inn, comfort and peace instantly washing over me. No one in the Hawthorne family, past or present, has actually lived in this house, but no one walking in these doors would ever know that.

Why my great-great-grandfather decided to build this house when everyone says he never planned on living here is a mystery, but turning it into a boarding house in the early 1900s was easily one of the best decisions he ever made.

The Lantern Inn has changed over the generations but the homey feel of the place has never changed. It’s the one thing people always mention in their reviews, and it’s the reason so many people choose to return whenever they’re close by.

The warm tones of the original entrance are like a comforting embrace, pulling you in and making you feel safe. And the natural light from the new windows in the front door keeps the space feeling open and clean.

It never hurts that there’s a smiling face sitting at the old, ornate front desk the moment you step inside, and this morning is no different.

“Thanks for watching the desk for me, Annie.” I smile as my gaze catches her.

I try my hardest to cover the front desk once a week, but it’s rare I actually get to sit there for my entire shift. If I were smarter, I’d stop scheduling myself for a shift and accept the fact that I don’t have the time for it.

“Sure thing, Madison.” Annie returns my smile before scampering off, likely to gossip about something with the other housekeepers.

My gaze follows Annie, and I wish for a moment things were like they used to be before I started managing the inn. I miss the camaraderie I used to have with everyone when I was still just another employee. But I wouldn’t want to change how close everyone is. They get along so well, making the atmosphere of this place better than I could ever imagine.

Then again, I’ve never been just another employee. They’ve always treated me a little differently, being the daughter of the owners. I don’t think it’s ever been intentional, but it’s weird gossiping about things around the person who handles your paychecks—or will handle them one day.