Golden Hour | Cole Stewart AU

Allies

ELORA

A little further away from Hopewell, at the edge of a park, stood a little wooden box, the color of a freshly bloomed rose, with a slanting rooftop for a head and a glass window for a door.

Years ago, many times, I had stopped by this wooden box and surveyed the books stuffed next to each other. I would then pick out the oldest copy which no one would pay heed to, and take it back to the cabin with me.

As predicted, a handwritten receipt would be tucked between the pages of the book. The time and place in the receipt would be the pickup spot and time. The number of items would indicate the days left for the pickup.

And that was Frost's way of sending messages. When he couldn’t get a message to you, he would leave hints for you to find, in one way or the other.

He'd done it again with this diary.

I knew these specific articles were important but I couldn’t figure out why. I’d read them over and over again until they stopped making sense to me.

Cole’s face had been completely blank when he handed me the diary. One look at him and I knew he wasn’t up for a chat. He hadn’t said a word about the articles.

So I’d sat by myself, absorbing the words until my mind had memorized the names and places. I'd stifled a yawn until my eyes started aching and the letters stopped making sense to me. My grip on the torch went slack and my eyes fluttered shut despite my best protests.

Cole woke me up at the crack of dawn, saying that his friend asked him to check out a few spots and I could sit this one out if I wanted to. I’m pretty sure he was hoping I wouldn’t go with him. But I'd just nodded and followed him to his car.

Cole claims that his friend had been keeping an eye out for threats and one blog post had gone big and received a lot of comments too. Most of them were concentrated at the edge of Virginia, very close to the West Virginia border.

We’ve been on the road for nearly an hour. The only interaction I’ve had with Cole after getting into the car was him turning off the radio as soon as I turned it on.

An empty paper cup sits in the console between us, the corners edged with brown. The bittersweet aroma of coffee is not enough to overpower the earthy smell of smoke. I reach out and turn the air conditioner on.

This whole car ride has been awkward. I don’t know if it’s because we’re no closer to finding Frost or because of what happened yesterday at the apartment.

I shouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have left, but Cole’s words got to me. I needed to get away before I said something I would later regret. He’d been getting on my nerves for days now with the questions.

His words didn’t matter at the end of the day. They wouldn’t change the truth. I just had to learn how to tune him out.

It’s been easy so far. We've barely traded three sentences since I got into the car. The silence is bothering me more than I'd like to admit. I'm used to talking things through with people, be it Reyna or Frost.

“Maybe we should switch seats.” I break the silence. It hasn’t gotten any colder and the only thing the air conditioner does is throw out more hot air.

Cole's eyes are fixed on the road. “My car, I drive.”

“You look like you could do with a nap.” I shouldn't ask him, I really shouldn't but if I don't talk, my mind is going to wander into dangerous territory. “Are you from Virginia?”

“No,” Cole says irritably.

“Right,” I nod, and I'm still not sure where he could be from. Just then I catch sight of a signboard saying how close we're to West Virginia. “West Virginia?”