“Bakery did that.”
“You are the bakery,” another rider said.
Emily laughed harder.
For fifteen minutes, she forgot entirely about Martin.
The riders introduced themselves one after another.
Digger.
Rose.
Tank.
Marlene.
Doc.
Bishop.
Ellis.
Rabbit.
Some names were clearly nicknames.
Others Emily suspected were intentionally ridiculous.
Then she noticed an older man standing slightly apart from everyone else.
He was perhaps seventy.
Tall despite his age.
White beard.
Weathered blue eyes.
Unlike the others, he wasn’t smiling.
He was staring at Emily’s neck.
More specifically, at the silver pendant hanging above her gown.
Emily touched it self-consciously.
The old man took one step closer.
“Where did you get that?”
Jack turned quickly.
“Bear.”
The old man ignored him.
“Girl, please.”
Emily’s smile vanished.
“My mother.”
“What was her name?”
Jack moved between them.
“Not here.”
But Emily answered.
“Sarah.”
The old man went completely still.
“Sarah what?”
“Hart.”
His face changed.
Not recognition exactly.
Something more violent.
Hope colliding with terror.
The flowers in Digger’s hands lowered.
Every biker suddenly became silent.
Emily looked from one face to another.
“What?”
Nobody answered.
“Jack?”
Jack rubbed a hand over his beard.
“We need to talk.”
They moved to a quiet classroom inside the school.
Emily sat behind a student desk still decorated with faded chemistry formulas.
Jack remained standing.
The old man—Bear—sat across from her.
His hands were shaking.
Emily noticed.
That frightened her more than anything else.
Jack finally reached into his vest.
“Remember my accident?”
“Obviously.”
“You picked up some things from the ditch.”
Emily nodded.
“Your saddlebag exploded.”
“Yeah.”
Jack removed a small cloth pouch.
“There was something you put in my bag that didn’t belong to me.”
Emily knew before he opened it.
The tarnished half-pendant.
She stared.
“I asked if it was yours.”
“I was half-conscious.”
Jack placed it on the desk.
“When I got home from the hospital, I went through everything. I knew immediately this wasn’t mine.”
Bear closed his eyes.
Jack continued.
“Blackstone Curve has been dangerous for decades. Lot of accidents.”
Emily waited.
“Sixteen years ago,” Jack said, “a man died there.”
A strange pressure formed in Emily’s chest.
Jack looked toward Bear.
“His name was Caleb Rowan.”
Bear’s voice cracked.
“My son.”
Emily looked at him.
Then at the pendant.
Then back at Jack.
“I don’t understand.”
Jack pointed toward Emily’s necklace.
“Take yours off.”
Emily hesitated.
Then unclasped it.
Her mother had given it to her during her final week alive.
Keep this, Sarah had whispered from the hospital bed. Some things belong to you even when you don’t understand them yet.
Emily had always assumed she meant the necklace itself.
