Chapter 5 05

"Ew, god no. He's attractive, I guess, but he's like a big brother to me. Just the thought makes me want to gag."

Norah chuckled, eyes on the road, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. "Sorry," she said, a smile pulling at her lips. "Change of subject then. Where can I drop you off?"

"The café in town," Olivia replied, wringing out the ends of her damp hair with a quick flick of her fingers. "I've got a spare change of clothes there, so I'll slip in. It's quiz night, which I hate, but my brother's there so he can give me a ride home."

She reached for the towel Norah had offered earlier and placed it across her legs, rubbing briskly. Water flicked off in little arcs onto the floor of the car, but Norah didn't mind. Olivia had this breezy energy about her, like she just existed in the world without needing permission.

Norah adjusted the car vents, turning them toward the passenger seat. A gust of warm air hit Olivia, who grinned at her.

"I'm not that cold, but thanks," she said. "So, are you just passing through?"

"No, actually I'm moving here. Just for a month or so. I'm staying at a beach house my friend's family owns."

"Oh, you must mean the Jones' house. It's the only vacant house on the beach."

"That's the one." Norah paused, feeling around the center console. "I have to get the keys from a man named..." Her hand brushed over a few crumpled receipts and her phone, but not the note she was looking for.

"Jack Richards?" Olivia offered.

"That's the name," Norah said, sitting back. "I might have to wait until tomorrow though. It's a bit late to be bothering him-"

"Oh no, Jack will still be awake. We'll stop there on the way into town and pick up the keys."

Norah glanced sideways at Olivia. They'd known each other for maybe twenty minutes-less, really-and yet Olivia spoke and moved like they'd been old friends reconnecting after a break. "Are you sure?"

Olivia waved a dismissive hand, the other adjusting the heater again. "Of course! It won't take long and I'm sure you must be tired of driving. How long have you been on the road?"

"A few days."

"Wow, that's insane!" Olivia leaned her head back against the seat, her voice full of easy disbelief. "What brings you to Bellvale?"

"I'm a writer," Norah answered, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to lie, not really. "I wanted to get away from my life for a while."

"That's cool," Olivia said, her eyes lighting up. "Wendy will get a kick out of a writer staying here."

"Wendy?"

"My best friend. Works at the café. She basically runs the place while the owners are off being all bohemian in France or something." Olivia pointed ahead, where the edge of town was just starting to show through the thinning forest. "Go straight through the roundabout and take the second left. Written anything I've heard of?"

"Probably not," Norah admitted, suppressing a smile. "I mostly do freelance stuff-articles, ghostwriting, that sort of thing. My own projects never quite make it past the halfway mark."

"That still counts," Olivia said firmly. "Anyone who actually writes is already way ahead of ninety-nine percent of people. Even if no one reads it."

Norah gave her a grateful smile. That kind of encouragement, casual and without expectation, was rare. She could already feel herself relaxing, the tight grip she'd been holding onto for the past few days loosening little by little.

They passed a weathered sign that read: Bellvale. Population est. 600. The numbers were faded, like someone had considered updating it and never bothered. The trees gave way to houses-quaint, sloping things with broad porches and the kind of garden gnomes that had clearly seen better days.

The roundabout came into view, and Norah followed Olivia's directions, taking the second left.

"You're gonna like it here," Olivia said, tapping her fingers on the dash in a little rhythm. "It's slow, yeah, and everyone knows everyone, but sometimes that's nice. Especially if you're trying to escape something."

"I'm not escaping," Norah said automatically, then hesitated. "Okay, maybe a little."

Olivia looked over at her, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she nodded, like that made perfect sense. "Well, if you ever want someone to talk to-or complain to-I'm usually at the café. Unless it's Sunday. That's my 'do nothing and binge terrible shows' day."

"Noted."

They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes. Norah noticed how the town had this timeless quality to it-no big-box stores, no aggressive neon signs. Just small shops with hand-painted windows, brick facades, and benches placed under trees. The kind of place where time didn't feel like it was constantly chasing you.

"There it is," Olivia said suddenly, pointing to a small house with a wide porch and a string of lights that flickered lazily in the wind. "Jack's place. He probably left the keys in the mailbox for you if he's not up front."

Norah parked along the curb and looked at the little cottage. It looked lived-in, the front yard neat but scattered with toys and a rusting wheelbarrow. She got out, the air colder than she remembered, and jogged up the steps to the porch. The mailbox creaked when she opened it.

Sure enough, an envelope with her name-Norah Benson-was tucked inside. She glanced toward the front window, caught a brief movement-maybe Jack, maybe not-then headed back to the car.

"Got 'em?" Olivia asked.

"Got 'em."

"Perfect. Let's hit the café then. I could use something warm and caffeinated."

They pulled back onto the road. The town lights glimmered a little brighter now, and Norah felt that odd thrill again-the same one she'd felt when she made the decision to leave. Something about being here felt right, even though she hadn't expected it to. Even though everything in her life had been on fire a week ago.

"You know," Olivia said after a moment, "I think this place is going to be good for you."

Norah looked over at her, surprised. "Why's that?"

"Because you've got the look," Olivia said, nodding as if that explained everything.

"The look?"

"Yeah. Like someone who's ready to be rewritten."

Norah let out a small laugh, but it caught in her chest. It wasn't a bad feeling, just unexpected. "We'll see."

They passed under a string of fairy lights stretched between two shops, and the café came into view-a squat building with wide windows glowing from the inside, people silhouetted in laughter and warmth. Music filtered out as Norah parked along the side street, and Olivia touched her arm before stepping out.

"Thanks for the ride," she said.

"Thanks for the company."

"I'll see you around, Norah Benson," Olivia said with a wink before disappearing through the café's front door, towel still loosely wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak.

Norah sat for a moment, watching the steam rise from her breath in the cold. Then, slowly, she started the car again and turned toward the beach road, the envelope with the keys resting on the passenger seat beside her.

Tomorrow, she'd unpack.

Tonight, she'd just breathe.