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“To be fair, we don’t really celebrate them either,” Pierce says.

“But we should,” Forge says.

“No one comes here for Halloween,” Pierce says. “The driveway is too long, and it’s a far walk to other houses.”

“What is that?” I ask.

They explain the different holidays to me, and I listen intently as they get into the history and how they have changed over the years. I love how smart they are. No matter what I ask, they always have an answer for me.

“You’ve never celebrated any of them?” Forge asks.

“No,” I say, cutting into a piece of chicken. “We had our own days that we celebrated. One of them was like your Thanksgiving, only we called it Village Day. Everyone would make a dish, the men would set up a large table and chairs at the village center, and we’d eat and sing and dance. We also have a few days a year when we fast to respect nature and allow them a full recovery before taking their offerings again.”

We chat a little more about the holiday thing, and then it falls silent. We’re still picking at our food and have some wine left. I gather the courage to tell them everything I need to tell them by gulping down the rest of my wine.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

The look up at me, share a look, then back at me.

“Two things, actually.”

“What is it?” Pierce asks in that gentle tone that always makes me feel comfortable and like I could tell him anything.

My hand instinctively goes over my pocket, feeling the small object that’s in there.

“I haven’t been… completely truthful with you.”

Forge frowns, but Pierce’s expression doesn’t change.

“How so?” Pierce asks.

I push the chair back and pause for a moment before getting to my feet. I dig into my pocket and pull it out, keeping my hand wrapped around it so they can’t see what it is.

“That day with Tiger… you asked if he said anything to me.”

“And you said he tried but you couldn’t understand him,” Forge says.

“Yes. And that is true. Well, mostly. At the end, he told me to run. And I did.”

“But?” Forge adds.

“But…” I swallow hard. “He gave me something.”

Forge looks at Pierce, but his gaze is still on me. For the first time, it looks like there is anger on his face. It’s well-hidden though. More of a feeling than anything. I can’t blame them for being angry with me. I expected it. After all, I’ve been holding onto something important.

“I don’t know what this thing is, and he didn’t tell me to give it to anyone. He just handed it to me and told me to run.”

“What is it?” Forge asks, his words hard.

Now I know he’s angry, at least a little.

I hold out my hand and uncurl my fingers. Their eyes go to my palm, and they both stare at it for a long time. I can’t tell what they’re thinking or if they even know what it is.

“Fuck,” Forge hisses, getting to his feet. Pierce looks up at me.

“He gave this to you?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you soon, I just—I didn’t know I could trust you, a-and—”