Chapter 2: Silver Hollow Shadows

A few years later, a powerful trust-fund kid took a liking to me and wouldn’t leave me alone.

You’d think in a town the size of Silver Hollow you could disappear, but Carter Quill was the kind of guy who knew how to find people. He drove that vintage Camaro like he owned Main Street, always parking right in front of the bakery like rules didn’t apply. He had this golden-boy charm—expensive sneakers, vintage Camaro, friends at every bar. And all that money? It made people do stupid things for him.

Helpless, I dialed Derek Langford’s number.

I remember the sunlight slanting across my kitchen table, the buzz in my ear as the call rang and rang. My hands were sweating, thumb tapping nervously against the Formica.

"Why do you keep turning him down?"

He sounded upbeat on the other end. "Is it because you don’t like him?"

There was that old familiar lilt—almost teasing, but sharp underneath, like he was poking at a bruise to see if it still hurt.

I sighed. "I’m already married."

There was a full minute of silence on the line.

I gripped my phone tightly, only able to hear the man’s low, steady breathing.

The quiet stretched, turning heavy. I stared at the calendar on the fridge—grocery list half-written, a note from Lucas tucked beneath a magnet. For a second, I wondered if I’d gone too far, asking Derek for help after all this time.

"When did this happen?" Derek’s tone was calm, each word deliberate. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Mm."

Seriously, who tells their ex-sugar daddy about their wedding? That’s not exactly Hallmark card material.

I laughed. "I just got the marriage license not long ago. We met through a dating app. Such a trivial thing... I didn’t want to bother you."

A brittle laugh escaped me. I didn’t want to see myself through his eyes—a little tragic, a little comic. For a second, I almost wished I’d made something up, but honesty was all I had left.

Another stretch of silence.

Derek spat out three words, neither warm nor cold: "Is that so."

In the noisy background, I heard a few careless clicks—the lighter’s lid being flipped open and snapped shut, over and over. That sound used to drive me crazy—now it just made me feel like a kid asking for favors she didn’t deserve.

I lowered my head, staring at my toes, not daring to make a sound.

This call was truly presumptuous.

After all these years apart, I was already married, and he had someone new by his side.

I pictured Lillian’s long, perfect hair and their engagement photos in the Tribune. I felt like an interloper, dialing an old number I’d promised myself I’d delete. If it weren’t for Carter Quill being so relentless, I wouldn’t have wanted to disturb his life again.