“I know all this.”

“Then snap the fuck out of it, Sasha. He’s not dead, OK?” I don’t respond, so James lifts my chin and forces me to look at him. “He’s not dead.”

I shake off his hand and continue looking down at the carpet. “I know he’s not dead. And—” I let out another sob. “And that’s even worse, James.” I look up at him as the tears stream down my face. He tisks his tongue at me and lets out a sigh. “It’s worse because that means he chose to leave me.” And then I can’t hold it in anymore. I just cover my face with my hands and cry.

James leans over and pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my tears into his soft t-shirt.

“I’m sorry, Sasha. I really am. I know you love him. I know you thought you’d have that happily ever after with him. But it was never meant to be, kid. It wasn’t.”

“It’s not fair,” I whine. “It’s not fair that you get Harper and I get no one.”

“You got both of us, Sobby Smurf. You made out like a bandit. And besides, I didn’t get Harper right away. I had to wait twelve years. She was too young when I fell in love with her. So that’s one reason why Nick had to leave, Sash. He fell in love with you and you’re too young. He’d be a very bad guy if he didn’t walk away, you have to understand that.”

I have nothing to say to that. I know it’s true, but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want this to be my reality.

“So, Harp and I were thinking. We’d sorta like to go see all that dinosaur stuff you talked about back in the desert. We’re close to Thermopolis. We looked that dinosaur place up online. Did you know they were voted number one dinosaur museum in the whole country?”

“Duh,” I say. “I’ve been to Thermopolis dozens of times.”

“Well, we haven’t. It’s only like three hours away, kid. What better way to spend a summer afternoon than driving up to see some dinosaurs?”

I look at him. He’s trying so hard to be here for me. To help me.

“Right?” he asks again.

I nod out a yes. “I suppose. You guys really don’t know enough about dinosaurs.” I sniff away my leftover sobs. “History is something you should understand, you know.”

“I really should, Smurf. I need you, kid.”

I look up at him and the tears are back.

He leans down and presses his head to mine. “I do, Sasha Cherlin. I need you. I can’t lose you to this sadness. You have to snap out of it. We’re gonna take our time, OK? We’re gonna take things slow. Go on road trips. See the West from the window of a truck. Just… relax and be normal for a few months before we decide what to do. OK? Sound good?”

I nod again. And then we stand up and walk towards the door.

I take one last look around the room. I remember Nick, lying on the bed next to me. Telling me these same things.

I give up one last sob for what could have been, and walk out.

James closes the door behind us.

And that’s it.

It’s over.

Chapter Thirty-Six

James - Six Months Later

Medicine Wheel National Historic Landmark

Bighorn National Forest

Wyoming

“Oh my God, I’m freezing!”

“Wimp,” I say to Harper as we climb the hill that leads to the medicine wheel monument. Sasha is way out ahead, halfway up the hill already.

“Why in the hell did we wait until December to come to this place?” Harper asks as she hugs herself.

It is damn cold up here. Negative two. But we’re all dressed for it. We’ve got the best winter gear money can buy. Merc finally cracked the financial accounts on those files, so there was a windfall payday for all four of us. We didn’t find the brainwashing stuff—not yet, anyway. And maybe it was all a lie. Maybe they just told us that shit to scare us. Or make us do things. Who knows. But if it was on that disc, it’s very well-hidden.

“Brr,” Harp complains again. I know Harper is not that cold, she’s just got an aversion to it. She was excited to see snow the first time, and then she was ready to hit the tropics. But we’re still doing the Dino Smurf tour of the West. So…

“It’s the Winter Solstice, Harper. It’s like a big deal or something.”

“No,” she laughs. “The Summer Solstice is a big deal. The Winter Solstice is something no one in Wyoming gives a crap about. It’s dark at four o’clock. It’s freezing. And it’s just… wrong.”

“Hey, you know what?”

“What?” she asks as we continue to climb.

“It’s almost sundown. So we can hang out and watch the sunset.”

“No, thank you,” she laughs. “I’m all about one quick look at this wheel thing, then we’re out of here.”

When we finally get to the top Sasha is just standing there, looking over at the fenced-in area where the wheel is. Should be.

“You can’t see it,” she says, disappointed. “The snow is covering it all up.”

“Fuck.” I’m such a loser. I never even thought about the snow covering up the rocks.

“You can see some of them, Sash,” Harper says. “Look, there’s the tip of one.”

The medicine wheel is a wheel made out of rocks placed in the ground hundreds of years ago by the native people in this area. It’s pretty crooked and if you ask me, you have to use your imagination on the best of days to see a wheel. But even crooked squiggly lines of rocks are better than no rocks.

“But you can’t see the spokes,” Sasha says. “I knew it was stupid to come.”

She was supposed to come here with her father for the last Summer Solstice. But we were hiding out at Merc’s desert house that night. And her father was dead. So yeah, that trip was canceled.

And then she said she never wanted to come see it. We’ve driven by this national forest dozens of times in the past six months hunting dinosaurs. But she refused to stop.

Until I offered to bring her for the Winter Solstice.

“Let’s go,” Sasha says, turning around to head back down the hill to the truck. “I’m done.”

“Wait,” I say, grabbing her jacket as she passes me. “We can make our own spokes. Look.” I walk over to the fence and step over it. The snow is so high along the fence, that’s easy to do. And then I walk out to the center of the circle and lie down in the snow. “Come here, girls. We’ll make our own spokes and watch the sunset.”