Long Lost, стр. 50
She and Arden were alone in the leafy moonlight.
Once there were two sisters who did everything together, Fiona thought.
They stood still for a long, quiet minute, breathing in the silvery air.
“We should get home,” Arden said at last. “I really hope Mom and Dad didn’t get up for a midnight snack or anything.”
“Yeah.” Fiona turned away from the grove. Her stomach, no longer twisted up with fear, gave a low growl. “Now I really want a midnight snack.”
“You know what we should do?” said Arden as they headed toward Parson’s Bridge. “Make ice-cream sundaes. If Mom and Dad wake up, we can say that’s what we were doing all along.”
“Yes!” Fiona smiled. “Let’s run and get our bikes!”
Arden’s face shifted. “I don’t know if—” She broke off. “I’m not sure I should try to run on this ankle. I mean, it’s probably fine. I just . . . never mind. You should go ahead. You’ll get home faster.”
“No,” said Fiona quickly. “I’ll walk with you. And you should hold my arm, just in case.”
“Okay. Fine.” Arden took Fiona’s elbow. “We can call this the favor you owe me.”
“What? No way.” Fiona turned to watch her sister’s face. “The favor should be something big.”
Arden didn’t look down, but she held Fiona’s arm a little closer. “Like you coming to watch me skate sometime?”
“No,” said Fiona again. “That’s not a favor. That’s just something I should do.”
There was a beat.
“Okay,” said Arden. And Fiona could see her smile, even through the darkness. “We’ll save it for another time, then.”
And they stepped onto the old wooden bridge together.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Three days later, when Charlie was finally allowed to leave his house, Fiona told him the whole story over cinnamon buns at the Perch Diner.
It took a long time, because he kept interrupting, and they had to go silent whenever Judy or other diners came near their booth, and by the time Fiona reached the end of the tale, over an hour had passed.
It was funny, Fiona thought, how short hours became when you were with certain people. Time had always flown when she was with Cy and Nick and Bina. Sitting here with Charlie felt almost like being with one of them—except instead of feeling comfortable and familiar, this felt new and unfamiliar. And that was good too.
“There’s one more thing,” said Fiona. “When I got home that night, The Lost One had already disappeared from my backpack. I thought it might have gone back to the library again. But when I sneaked up to the third floor to check Evelyn’s room, it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t anywhere.”
“That makes sense,” said Charlie, looking annoyingly unsurprised. “The book doesn’t need to be read anymore. It’s done.”
“I guess so,” said Fiona. She felt heavy and empty at the same time. A lot like a blank leather-bound book.
Charlie cut a bite of cinnamon bun but didn’t eat it. “I wish I had been there,” he said, looking down at the tabletop.
“Me too,” Fiona answered.
Although she only said it to be kind.
If Charlie had stayed at the library with her, everything would have been different. Arden wouldn’t have had to jump into the cistern and haul Fiona out. The two of them wouldn’t have walked through the moonlit woods, ridden their bikes across the sleeping town, or sat on the kitchen floor eating giant bowls of ice cream at two thirty in the morning. Fiona wouldn’t know, not for certain, how many rules Arden would bend or how many chances she would take, just for her.
And Fiona liked knowing.
“It’s weird,” she said, turning her cocoa mug in circles. “I’m glad we know what really happened. I’m glad we helped. But I’m also kind of sorry that the story is done.”
Charlie nodded. “I know what you mean. But stories are supposed to have endings. Plus, they can only really end if no one knows them. And you and I will remember this one.”
“Yes.” Fiona gave him a full smile now. “Definitely.”
“So,” said Charlie as Fiona scraped up a trail of icing. “You’re still going to be here in the fall, right?”
“I’d say the odds are ninety-nine-point-five percent. Why?”
He shrugged, looking almost sheepish. “I was just wondering if you’ll be going to school here. If you do, we’ll be in the same grade.”
“Oh.” Fiona had barely thought about the school year. With all of summer stretching out ahead—a summer that had seemed so blank and lonely just a week ago—the next grade was a barely visible bump on the horizon. “Yeah. I suppose we will be.”
“Good.” Charlie flashed a smile. “It’ll be great to have someone else around who . . . I mean, most of the kids here don’t understand why someone would spend half their summer in a library.”
Fiona scooped up the last drip of icing. “I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t.”
“Me neither,” Charlie agreed. “When you get your school schedule, you should show me. I know all the teachers, so I can tell you what they’re like. And I can help you find your way around the school. It’s not too big, but I still know all the best routes. And there’s a science club. We invent things and solve problems and go to competitions. You could join us. If you want to.”
Fiona grinned back. “That sounds great.” She glanced at the clock above the pie display. “Ooh. I have to get home. I’m going to my sister’s skating practice today.” She slid her backpack over her arm. “Her ankle was sore, so she had to skip a couple of days, but she’s feeling pretty much back to normal now.”
“Hey,” said Charlie again, as Fiona scooted toward the end of the bench. “Could I come with you and watch sometime? Like when there’s a competition?”
Fiona halted. “You want to watch my sister skate?”
“I’ve never been to a