“Wanna swing through downtown? I can point out a few spots.”

I wanted to get to the hospital, but I was enjoying my time with Karter more than I thought I would. If this was going to be a repeat of every friendship I’d ever had, this would’ve been the start of me putting my defenses up, watching my every move, steering clear of any place where I might lose control, and taking zero chances. But if I was going to make a fresh start . . .

“Sure,” I said. “That’d be nice.”

CHAPTER 11

Karter steered us toward town and we talked like we’d known each other for more than a day. He’d struck me as awkward and kind of clumsy before. I thought he was just shy but as we spent more time together, I got the sense he was just a soft-spoken dude. He was laid-back and funny. It was easy to be with him.

“This is Montgomery Street,” he said as we pulled into town. “Once you get south of downtown, it turns into Mill Street.” We passed a farmers’ market with a bunch of colorful tents and bustling stalls. “Market Street is where most of the shops are. Samuel’s Sweet Shop is my favorite place.” He pointed to a shop with blue trim and a red bench out front. “The guy who plays Ant-Man is the co-owner or somethin’.”

“Really? Paul Rudd?” Mo thinks Paul Rudd is the finest white man she’s ever seen.

“He’s aight,” Karter said laughing. “At Samuel’s they got these candies called Clodhoppers. It’s peanut butter, pretzel, and graham crackers covered in milk chocolate. So good.”

“See, now I’m hungry,” I said.

“I’ll take you if you wanna go,” he offered. “I mean, only if you want to,” he said quickly, keeping his eyes forward.

“I’d like that, I really would, but maybe another day? I wanna get to the hospital before it gets too late.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” said Karter. “It’s not going anywhere.”

I smiled and as we drove through town, I imagined what the sugar maples that lined the streets would look like in the fall when their foliage would turn a kaleidoscope of golds and reds. We were driving slowly enough that I caught their subtle movements, gestures I wasn’t sure other people could pick up on. These movements were like taking a deep breath—a gentle rounding of the leaves, an almost imperceptible elongating of the branches—and they were doing it because of me. For the first time in a long time, it felt more like a gift than a burden.

“This place doesn’t feel real,” I said.

“It takes a while to get used to.”

“What was it like growing up here?” I asked. “Because I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen exactly six other Black folks since we got here, and you and your mom are two of them.”

“The fact that you’ve seen all of us already is pretty much the only thing you need to know.” He shook his head. “Nah, but for real, it’s okay. People are cool for the most part. The ones who live here all the time keep to themselves. The tourists are annoying, especially in the summer, but hey—what’re you gonna do?”

We drove past a stately house with a sign that read Beekman Arms Inn. “Everything looks like something out of a history book. How old is this place?”

“Pretty old,” he said. “The town, I mean. And the people here are old as hell, too. I think the average age gotta be like sixty-five.”

“Serious?”

“Probably.” Karter grinned. “There’s a bingo hall off Market Street that’s packed every weekend.”

“So that’s where the party is on Saturday nights? Good to know.”

“If by ‘night’ you mean five thirty in the afternoon, then yeah.” Karter made a loop and headed back toward the house. “The hospital’s this way.”

By the time we got there, it was midafternoon. Karter parked the truck and turned to me. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“Sure, but I don’t even know if they’ll let me see him.”

“I guess we’ll find out, right?”

We walked inside and a woman in a floral-print button-down, the collar neatly pressed, eyed us suspiciously from her perch behind the information desk. “Can I help you? You look lost.”

“I’m looking for a patient,” I said. “His name’s Alec Morris. He came in by ambulance yesterday.”

She clicked around on her keyboard and read from the monitor in front of her. “He’s in room 316. It looks like he’s under guard, so you won’t be able to see him without a police escort.”

I sighed. That made sense. Dr. Grant said they were keeping an eye on him.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a stab of disappointment.

I turned to walk toward the door, but Karter hooked his arm under mine and pulled me in the direction of the elevator. “We should go pick up your meds while we’re here,” he said.

“Huh?”

He gently squeezed my hand.

“Oh,” I said, picking up on the ruse. “Good idea.”

Karter smiled at the receptionist as we got into the elevator. As soon as the door closed he let go of my arm.

“They’re not gonna let us see him.”

He thought for a moment. “I can cause a distraction and you can sneak in.”

“Wait. What?”

“I’ll slip and fall or something,” he said with a smirk. “I might not have to pretend. I have two left feet.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” I had definitely noticed. It was kind of funny that the person who was going to help me stealthily sneak in to see the stranger from the woods was probably the most uncoordinated person ever. I pushed my glasses up. “So you’re good at scamming people? Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” He smiled that big toothy grin of his. “But keep me in mind if you ever need to make half-assed plans that probably won’t work out.”

The elevator climbed to the third floor. The doors slid open and we followed the signs to room 316. It was the last room situated at the end of the east hall, and a police officer sat outside the door scrolling through his phone. I ducked behind a crash cart and pulled Karter down next to me.

“What are we gonna do? I can’t just walk in there.”

Karter bit his bottom lip, scrunching his bushy eyebrows together. Suddenly, he clapped his hands. “Okay.”