Chapter 2: Choking on Love and Lies

I died in December. The fourth winter after we moved to Maple Heights. It was a snowy day.

The snow came down in fat, lazy flakes that stuck to the windows and made the whole town look wrapped up in cotton. December’s always felt like a time for endings and beginnings out here.

Actually, I’d started planning my own “death” three months before. Crazy, right?

I made lists, doodled in the margins of my notebook, even practiced my dying expressions in the bathroom mirror. At first, it felt like a game—the kind you play when you’re bored and restless, pretending to be someone else.

At first, I thought I’d fake choking to death, so I asked Caleb to buy me some dried cranberries. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d take it seriously.

He came home with a whole grocery bag full, tossing them on the counter with a grin. “You planning to make pie, or just eat ‘em straight?”

After eating eighteen packs, my face was red as a beet. I could hardly breathe, or at least that’s how I made it look. For a second, I wondered if I’d gone too far.

My cheeks puffed up, lips sticky with cranberry juice, and I made a show of clutching my throat, eyes bulging like those first-aid posters at school. It was all very dramatic. Oscar-worthy, I thought.

But I didn’t expect Caleb to grab me from behind, fist pressed under my ribs, giving me a few hard thrusts. With a “pop,” the cranberry shot right out of my mouth. I didn’t even have time to be surprised.

He moved so fast I barely registered what was happening. The world spun, and suddenly I was doubled over, coughing as it bounced off the linoleum. Guess he paid attention in health class after all.

I didn’t manage to die—Caleb just about squeezed me half to death instead. If I wasn’t going to choke, I figured I might get crushed by him. Ha.

His arms locked around me like a vise, and for a second, I wondered if this was how he’d always hold on—fierce and scared, like letting go was the real danger. I couldn’t help but laugh.

He held me in his arms, murmuring, “Don’t be scared, don’t be scared.” He coaxed me like I was a little kid, arms wrapped around me tight.

His voice was low, shaking at the edges, and he rocked me gently, like I was something fragile and precious. The kitchen clock ticked on. But all I could hear was his heartbeat, fast and frantic.

Once it came out, I hadn’t even said a word yet, but Caleb looked like he’d had the life scared out of him—eyes wide and red with panic.

He looked at me like I might vanish if he blinked, his knuckles white where he gripped my shoulders. Whatever joke I’d planned died in my throat. I never expected him to take it so hard. I swallowed, realizing I’d gone too far.

Whatever quip I’d planned died on my lips; Caleb looked way too shaken. He kept apologizing, saying he never should’ve bought the dried cranberries. He even gave me his family’s heirloom silver bracelet, pressing it into my palm with trembling hands.

He pressed it into my palm, voice cracking, “You scared me half to death, Savannah. Here—this’ll keep you safe.” His hands lingered on mine. For a moment, the world felt smaller and quieter than it had in years.

Folks in town said Caleb’s family had once been well-off, and the bracelet was worth a fortune. I figured the silver was so pure, it’d probably fetch a high price even at the bottom of the lake.

I rolled the bracelet in my fingers, feeling the weight of old stories and small-town rumors. Even the raccoons would be jealous if they saw it glinting under the water. I grinned at the thought.

I felt a little embarrassed, so I silently scratched “choking” off my list.

I tucked my list under my pillow, resolving to try something a little less… interactive next time. Caleb was too sharp for his own good.