Chapter 1 Crimson Hearts

“Tell me again, from the beginning. What did you dream of?”

“Mom. Let’s just… forget I said anything.”

“No, no, tell me. It’s important for you to talk to me about it. So was it your sister, or—?”

“I don’t know. Just please forget about it and keep driving.”

Mom was taking me to the airport. I was in the passenger seat, staring out the open window. My hair was loose, blowing wildly in the wind, and I kept my hand stretched outside, as if I could somehow grab onto the air and hold myself in this town. I wanted nothing more than to stay.

“It’s only been a couple of months since your sister’s funeral. It takes time to process these feelings—”

“Is that why you’re sending me off to the other side of the country? So I can ‘process’?”

I was leaving the town I’d known my whole life. The warmth of the sun. Going to the beach after school. Staying up too late with salty skin and sand still stuck between my toes. I was leaving my friends, my school, the colorful buildings downtown. How was I supposed to understand any of this—let alone accept it?

“Honey, I just… I just think it will be better if you’re far from this. At least for a while.”

“The only thing that would be good for me is being with Azzy.”

“But she’s… gone. You’ll never be able to be with her.”

Jeez, Mom. Her words hit me like a slap.

“Distance is good. You’ll see.”

“I won’t know anyone,” I muttered, one of my last desperate attempts to reason with her.

“You’ll know your dad. And you’ll make new wonderful friends.”

“I don’t want to meet new people.”

“Lilah—”

“Delilah, Mom. Delilah. No more nicknames.”

“Right… sorry, honey. Delilah.”

She glanced at me, but I turned my head away. I didn’t want to see her expression—those soft, pitiful looks. I hated them. I hated how she’d been ever since that horrific police call. I hated that she was sending me away, pretending it was for my own good, when really it just gave her space to be alone with her boyfriend.

I looked at myself in the car mirror. I pressed my lips together as if I had lip gloss to give them some color. I’d been paler lately—or at least that’s what everyone kept telling me. My auburn hair fell past my shoulders. I’d straightened it almost every morning for years, but today I left it wavy and frizzy.

Everyone thought I looked like this because I’d lost my sister. Because she was gone.

But no. I was angry.

Angry that I was the only one who wanted the truth.

They told us she overdosed at a party. What a bullshit answer. I knew her mind like my own. She would never touch drugs—especially not hard ones. You want me to believe the same girl who refused to drink regular Coke because it had too much sugar somehow overdosed at some random party?

No. It was a lie.

A lie to cover up the truth.

She was murdered.

“I talked to Mike this morning. Your dad is going to wait for you at the airport. He’ll help you settle in and then take you out for a burger.”

Silence. I didn’t want to talk to her—not when she was making me give up my entire life just to make things easier for herself.

“Did you say goodbye to Jace?”

“We broke up, Mom. I’m not going to keep updating him on my life.”

“Oh, but you two were such a cute couple. I’m sure with time—”

“Mom, drop it. We broke up. End of story.”

The last thing I wanted to talk about was Jace.

My dad lived in Granwood, Oregon. I was trading long summer nights and strawberry ice cream for endless rain and gray skies. We never stayed with him for more than a week at a time. And now I was supposed to move in with him indefinitely.

Even better—the population of Granwood was 2,572 people. And that’s probably counting the squirrels.

Sounds… thrilling.

I’d overheard my mom on the phone with Mike—my dad—saying she was worried I was “fading.” Whatever that meant. That I’d lost myself. That I was ignoring my friends.

My sister was murdered and no one was doing anything about it.

What did she expect? Sunshine to shoot out of me?

No matter what I said, she wouldn’t believe me. She didn’t want to listen. It was easier for her to accept a clean overdose story than something darker. Something messier.

I can’t say I’ll miss my friends that much… but I’ll miss the memories I have here with my sister.

For as long as I can remember, we lived here. She taught me how to ride my bike. She taught me how to braid my hair. She put me on the pill when I started high school because she said it was better to be safe than sorry. She was in her first year of college, but she came home almost every weekend just to stay with me.

Azzy was there. Always.

When I started high school, she made sure I hung out with the right people. That I was having fun. That no one messed with me.

We passed the old wooden dock by the lake. If only Mom knew how many times we jumped off it. Azzy used to sneak out to parties at night. She didn’t take me until I turned sixteen. They’d serve warm beer in red cups and blast music too loud. We’d jump into the lake half-drunk, fully alive.

It was harmless fun.

And all of it—gone.

“What’s making you smile, honey?”

“Nothing, Mom. Don’t worry about it.”