Chapter 65: II. On the Edge pg. 11

Cars were as uncommon by the coast as they were in the mountains where Phoebe had grown up, and as such, the garage was both a surprise to her and a rarity in its own right. Julia’s truck was parked in the center. In front of it, a row of metal shelves was filled to the brim with boxes, gardening tools, paint cans, a length of chain, and more. Further odds and ends were littered around the rest of the garage, including more boxes, a wheelbarrow, and a lawnmower.

Julia grabbed two fishing poles from among the clutter. Then she clicked a remote and the garage door rose up with a loud, mechanical noise.

“Sorry,” she said when Phoebe covered her ears, “It’s kinda loud. Here-” she tossed her a fishing pole before grabbing a cooler and walking outside. When Phoebe followed her into the faint morning light, she was met with an unkempt front yard which extended to a gravel road. A mailbox with MOREVNA painted on it sat where the two met. She was led around the side of the house, and swaths of grass grew taller until they stretched out into a field. Julia, swinging her fishing pole over her shoulder, walked down what looked more like a game trail than an actual path.

“Can’t believe it might be Connell,” she said. “He was Uncle Dave to me. He married a fledgling for fuck’s sake.”

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