CHAPTER THREE
Black, moss green, and mocha bled into each other in smudges of shifting colors. A nightjar's trill blended with the distant pulse of rock music. Lilly stumbled forward, rough stones scraping against her bare soles, and a jagged edge bit into her foot. She gasped and collapsed. Her knees smacked into hard ground, and dry tufts of grass pricked her palms. She bent forward and retched until her stomach spasms subsided.
She inhaled a trembling breath, the scent of parched earth and sweet straw filling her nose. So familiar, but not from the amphitheater. This smell was a distinct contrast to the chemical sharpness of sun-heated plastic and the dry scent of concrete that had lingered there.
Lilly blinked into the distance, and shapes emerged from the blur. A rippling line of dark mountains surrounded her, their peaks curving high against the star-studded night sky. Beside her, a thick tree trunk with deep-grooved bark shot up from the ground. Black Cottonwood. Just like the ones in front of her childhood home.
She was in Malibu. Or somewhere in California.
A cool breeze carried a trace of salt. The ocean was near.
A cold chill trembled down her body, and she rubbed her hands over her bare arms to create friction, then settled on her heels and hugged her arms around her bare midsection.
Bare?
Her gaze snapped downward. Black-and-white checkered surf shorts clung to her thighs, and only a bikini top covered her chest. She was wearing her surfing outfit. But not the one from earlier. This was the one she'd worn as a teenager. But why?
Another shiver rippled through her, and she squeezed her arms tighter around herself. This was way too vivid for a drug trip. She didn't need to double-check the cookie ingredients for LSD.
She picked a brittle leaf from the ground and rolled it between her fingers. It crumbled into dry flakes. Yeah, definitely real.
A rustle went through the bush next to her, and Lilly whipped her head around. A mouse? Or something larger? She held her breath and strained her ears against the silence. A coyote?
Another rustle, then silence fell again.
She had to get out of here. Lilly dug her nails into the flesh of her upper arms.
Here…
But where was here? Had she ended up in the past again?
She pushed herself to her feet and turned. In the distance, across the sparse plain, golden dots swayed in the dark outlines of treetops, accompanied by the rustling of the wind.
A howling cry echoed off the mountains, and Lilly spun around, searching for the source. Nothing but steep slopes, falling into shadows on all sides.
Another elongated howl bounced off the mountains in a fading echo. Oh God. It had to be a coyote. Her muscles froze.
She needed to hide. And fast. Her gaze darted around and landed on the string of lights again – a golden twinkling in the darkness. It almost seemed to beckon her. It had to be safe, right? This wasn't an anglerfish situation. Or was it? Like the fish luring prey into its trap? Either way, staying here wasn't an option.
Twigs dug into her bare soles, dry grass rustled against her legs, and bushes scratched her skin as she stumbled toward the light. Two oval light dots drifted through the dark distance.
What was that–? Lilly froze.
The moon's cold light swept across the sleek surface of a black car. Too far to call for help. Lilly swallowed and pressed on until she reached the edge where the plain met the forest.
She worked her way through the underbrush. Bushes tugged at her shorts and overhanging branches scraped her skin. One snapped back and slapped her in the face; another struck her eye. She blinked against the sting but pushed forward.
Voices drifted through the undergrowth, mingling with the pounding beats of the music. She broke through the last of the bushes and stepped onto coarse sandstone tiles.
In front of her, the calm surface of a pool glistened in transparent ocean blue, spinning a rippling net of silver waves across the sandstone wall of an italian-style mini villa. Inflatable neon-colored pool floats glided over the smooth surface.
People mingled in tight groups or rocked their bodies to the beat of the music. A cluster of teenage girls in short cocktail dresses and cropped leather jackets sipped from glasses filled with clear tangerine-colored or lime-green liquids, each topped with sparkling party picks.
She was at a party.
Something hard slammed into her side. Cool wetness splashed across her chest and forced a shriek from her lips. She stumbled but regained her balance.
"Oh shoot!" A boy in his late teens clutched a half-empty cocktail glass to his chest. "Sorry about that." He patted the right pocket of his suit pants, then the left, and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here, use this." His bushy brows pulled into a frown.
Lilly blinked. That was–
The boy blew his straw-blond bangs out of his face.
The lead actor from Zombie High. Lilly fumbled for the handkerchief, her wide gaze locked with his. She had never missed a single episode of that show.
She let the smooth fabric glide over her sticky-wet stomach. His name hovered on the tip of her tongue. What was it again? She held the handkerchief out for him to take back.
"You can keep it." Pearl-white teeth flashed behind rosy lips. "Jake Ryan, the Zombie Slayer, is always the savior in times of need."
Jake. Right. But younger. Just like he looked years ago. She'd seen him on a magazine cover a year ago. He'd turned into a brunette with a thin beard along his more defined jawline. Yeah. No doubt. She was back in the past.
His eyes flicked down her body and back up. "Looks like you could use every scrap of fabric you can get."
Lilly pressed the wet handkerchief against her stomach.
But, you know, even though it's called a pool party–" another smile flashed across his lips "–you don't usually wear swimsuits. Especially not in April."
Oh, she knew. "Guess I'm just a masochist." She tried for a dry tone, but the words trembled through chattering teeth.
Jake tilted his head toward the villa. "There are towels inside if you want to warm up." He shot her a wink. "Catch you later." He turned away, and his lanky frame disappeared behind a group of broad-shouldered men.
Towels, then…
Lilly headed toward the villa and passed the DJ booth where the bass blasted through huge speakers, thumping through her chest and sending vibrations rattling her skull. A man with shoulder-length auburn dreadlocks headbanged to the rhythm, his hair whipping across his face. Above him, a soft pink banner hung between two trees, its golden letters reading: Happy Birthday, Mitchie.
Lilly reached for the handle of the mahogany-paneled arched door and pushed. It didn't budge. Strange. But Jake had said…
She pulled instead. Nothing. No creak of the hinges. Not even the faintest movement. It was as if the door had been welded shut.
"Hey, mind if I squeeze by?"
The quirky voice came from behind, and Lilly glanced over her shoulder; a girl curved her lips into a smile, a strand of fiery red hair falling over freckled cheeks. Lilly stepped aside, and the girl brushed past. She pushed the door open with ease, warm light spilling out for a second before it clanged shut behind her.
How had she–? Lilly knitted her eyebrows at the handle. She tried to rattle it again.
Wait. No, not rattle. She gripped the handle, her muscles tensed, but her arms… they wouldn't move. It was–it was as if some invisible force was holding her back.
Another shiver rippled down her spine, unrelated to the chill in the air. The metal beneath her fingers grew warm and slippery. This wasn't a normal version of the past. Something was off. Seriously off. Muffled footsteps approached from the other side of the door and Lilly yanked her hand back.
The door swung open. A boy stepped out of the warm glow, bringing a wave of heat with him. He brushed past and the door slammed shut again, plunging Lilly back into cold shadows.
Lilly swallowed hard. What was she supposed to do now? Stand here and freeze until… what, exactly? Until the diary brought her back to the present? It would bring her back, wouldn't it? It had last time.
But what if it didn't? She held her breath and wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders curling in. She should've returned the diary to the man as soon as she'd found it among the pile of free stuff. Or at least gotten rid of it after it brought her back from her first travel. Now she was stuck here. Alone and cold. She needed shelter. Somewhere safe. Somewhere warm. But where?
Lilly retraced her steps and weaved through the groups of partygoers. The scent hit her again: fruity pineapples and creamy coconuts, with the sharp edge of alcohol underneath. Too tropical for this kind of weather.
The branches of a giant tree shaded a long wooden table that stretched along the edge of the wood. Lilly stopped at the table's short end and turned her back to the rough bark of the tree trunk. Was this really the safest place to wait?
Pizzas lined the table on rustic wooden boards, many with slices missing. Crystal glasses filled with vibrant drinks – deep reds, bright oranges, and cool blues – stood elevated on golden trays, each glass topped with lemon slices or tiny picks topped with cherries. Why not cinnamon tea and hot cocoa instead? Something warm. Something that made sense.
Dry grass crunched in the underbrush, followed by the rustle of a bush. Coyotes? Oh God. Had they followed her? Lilly spun toward the tree line and narrowed her eyes at the thicket where the dense foliage disappeared a few feet deeper into the darkness.
Branches snapped under weight.
No. Coyotes wouldn't venture into the light. Then what–
Bright flashes accompanied by rapid clicks erupted from the bushes further down the table. Lilly blinked against the glare. Camera flashes? Paparazzi?
A man's face popped out from between the leaf-covered branches. Deep shadows carved his rugged features before he disappeared back into the thicket. Another burst of flashes lit the bushes near the tree line.
Lilly followed the bursts of light toward the direction they were aiming. Were they trying to catch a picture of Jake? Something they could twist into a scandal? A shot of him holding a vodka bottle, maybe?
A girl flicked her honey-blonde hair over her shoulder and raised a beer bottle to her lips, her throat bobbing with each swallow.
Hannah.
Lilly sucked in a sharp breath and held it in her chest. That was Hannah…
Hannah shot both arms into the air. A glint reflected off the dark glass of the bottle in one hand, while red liquid sloshed over the rim of the cocktail glass in her other. Cheers erupted around her, their voices muffled by the pounding bass.
This was one of those wild parties. Like the ones she'd read about in magazines, fantasizing she could be a part of them. Lilly sagged against the tree trunk and pressed her palms into the rough bark, her fingers tracing its deep grooves.
Hannah's smile stretched wide across her soft, full cheeks, the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth. She tipped the cocktail glass back, drained it in one go, then shot it back into the air in victory. Another round of muffled cheers followed, pulling another wide smile across her lips.
First the Hannah Montana concert, and now this. Maybe the concert hadn't been part of her past, but Hannah's. Could the diary have belonged to her? But the writer had sounded so distressed…
A woman beside Hannah handed her two empty cocktail glasses. Two middle-aged men pushed three open beer bottles into her arms.
Letting random grown men pressure her into drinking and turning her into their personal waitress… Something about that felt off.
Hannah hugged the bottles against her chest, but one slipped from under her arm. The crash of shattering glass pierced through the beat of the music. Hannah glanced down, blinked, then let out a high-pitched giggle, her white teeth flashing against her flushed cheeks.
There was no way Hannah was distressed.
Lilly stilled her hands on the bark. What had Jake said? It was April, right? But the diary entry was dated early May. So this was before – before whatever event led to her feeling this way.
Hannah disappeared into the crowd, bottles clutched against her stomach and the empty glasses held high above her head.
Finding Hannah's diary in a random Free Stuff pile six years later had been crazy enough.
But this?
Lilly's gaze dropped to the ground, and she gave a small shake of her head.
This was completely bonkers.
Knobby feet in worn sandals shuffled into her field of vision, and a sickly sweet smell hit her nostrils.
Lilly wrinkled her nose in a grimace. That smell… Wasn't that–
A tall, lanky man stopped at the buffet table. He plucked a joint from the corner of his mouth and a thin curl of smoke drifted away from his head.
–a joint. Lilly resisted the urge to cup her nose.
The man picked a pepperoni from a pizza slice and shoved it into his mouth. He licked his fingers and stuck them into the golden baked cheese on the next slice, poked out an olive, and popped it into his mouth.
Lilly's nostril flared. Jesus, he was disgust–
His eyes snapped to hers. Lilly dropped her gaze. These kind of people. They were always at Oliver's parties, too. And they spelled trouble with a capital T.
Footsteps shuffled closer, and a shadow fell over her feet.
Oh no. What now? Should she ignore him, or–
A Hi cut through the air, and Lilly forced herself to look up.
The man exhaled a thick cloud of smoke in her direction through pursed lips, his grin widening as the smoke reached her face.
The pungent mix of cannabis and garlic made her gag. Okay, he was way worse than anyone at Oliver's parties.
His grin stretched, and a row of yellow teeth emerged from behind cracked lips. "Interested?"
In buying one of his greasy joints? "No, thanks."
He retrieved an electric-blue pill from the breast pocket of his oversized Hawaiian shirt, grabbed Lilly's hand, and placed it in her palm. "You look like you need to loosen up."
Lilly fought the urge to wipe her hand on her shorts. Instead, she opened her palm and stared at the tiny, pentagon-stamped pill. Was this… ecstasy?
"Nice outfit, by the way." His gaze lingered a beat to long on her bare stomach.
Goosebumps prickled along her arms and she crossed them over her chest.
"Planning to surf in the pool? Or go deep diving in the pool?" He accentuated the word pool while the sleazy grin stayed on his face.
What a jerk. "I am." Her words came out sharp. "Thanks for the Pill."
"No sweat. Need more, just ask for Larry." He blew another sour cloud of smoke into her face that made her tense, turned, and vanished into the crowd.
Lilly drew in a gulp of fresh air. She let the pill slide from her palm and crushed it under her shoe. What was a drug dealer doing at a birthday party full of teenagers? She slid down the tree trunk, the rough bark scraping her back, and drew her knees to her chest. But did it even matter? The only thing that mattered was when she'd finally return to her own time. It couldn't be much longer. Right?" Lilly wrapped her arms around her knees and shivered as cold skin pressed against even colder flesh.
Several splashes broke through the distorted wail of a guitar solo.
A couple of teenagers paddled around the swimming pool. Shirtless boys clung to inflatable swim rings: one shaped like a donut with bright pink icing, another like a flamingo. A boy slipped out of his trousers by the pool's edge, took a running start, and launched himself belly-first onto the flamingo-shaped float, which submerged under his weight for a second before bobbing back up.
Lilly tightened her arms around her knees. Who in their right mind would go swimming on such a chilly April night? It had to be barely twelve degrees.
A cascade of honey-blonde hair broke the water's surface and plastered over the face of a girl. A wet white bra clung almost translucent to her skin. Of course… Hannah.
White flashes exploded from the bushes.
Oh, man. Seemed like the paparazzi had found their treat. Lilly scowled at the star-shaped flashes flickering across the bushes. That one headline? What did it say again? Hannah's Wet Orgy Party?
She pressed her face into her arms and breathed hot air against her knees, a damp warmth settling back against her icy nose. When would the diary send her back? Did she have to do something? She gnawed at her lower lip and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
A boy in the pool yanked his soaked T-shirt over his head and whipped it through the air like a lasso, sending a spray of water droplets flying in every direction. The girls gathered at the pool's edge shrieked, threw up their hands in defense, and scrambled back.
By the buffet, a man grabbed a slice of pizza and bit into the tip. A gooey strand of cheese stretched from his mouth until he bit it off.
A group of girls snatched cocktails from a tray, the glasses clinking together, and they disappeared into the crowd.
The string lights reflected in the fiery orange liquid of the remaining cocktail glasses as golden dots. Only crumbs scattered across the rustic wooden boards by the time Lilly drummed her fingers against her knees with frozen, stiff movements.
The remaining guests huddled in small groups on the floor or slumped across the loungers. The DJ had stopped the music, leaving only the melodic chirping of crickets and the distant splash of waves breaking through the tree line.
If her internal clock was right, she'd been here for hours. Had she done something at the concert to land back in the present? But what?
Hannah swayed across the backyard, her steps uneven. Jake appeared from the opposite side. They met in the middle.
Jake yanked her close by the waist. She threw her arms around his neck and crashed her lips against his in a sloppy kiss. She rose on her toes and pulled him close, but he didn't lean in.
Lilly stilled the drumming of her fingers on her knees and pushed her brows together. Hannah and Jake. How had she forgotten? They were the ultimate It-couple of the late two-thousands. Their faces had been plastered on every other magazine cover.
The kiss stretched on for several long seconds. Light erupted again from the bushes.
Similar images had often graced magazine covers. She had owned stacks of them. So many that every inch of space beneath her bed had been crammed with glossy covers, hidden away from her skater friends. They could never have found out. That would've been social suicide.
Hannah stepped back down and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She flashed a bright, toothy smile at Jake.
Jake returned her smile with a bright sheen, then spun away. His smile fell. He shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled over to a group lounging by the pool.
What was that? A show? Kissing in full view of the paparazzi, only to go separate ways a second later?
Hannah stepped toward the edge of the trees, glanced to her right, then to her left, and disappeared into the thicket.
What was she doing out there? Lilly's brow furrowed. Was she okay? Or– Lilly's gaze flicked back toward the villa. Didn't the place have bathrooms? Or… was Hannah heading home? If the diary was hers, she had to know something. Why had it brought her here? And how was she supposed to get back to the present?
Lilly forced her frost-stiffened body upright and stumbled toward the bushes, the sandstone pressing with a numbed weight against her frozen soles. She stopped at a narrow gap between two bushes, where the string lights cast a warm glow over the leaves below.
A faint rustling came from somewhere deeper in the thicket.
Hannah wasn't squatting with her pants down right now, was she? That'd be awkward to walk in on.
Another rustle, louder this time.
Nonsense. Just because she couldn't enter the villa didn't mean Hannah couldn't. Lilly straightened her back further and pushed through the tangled branches.
Hannah sat on the ground – not squatting thank god – but… wow. Lilly froze, her lips parting.
Hannah was slumped against the tree trunk, her head buried in her arms, which were wrapped around her knees. Limp, damp strands of honey-blonde hair hung over her slumped shoulders, where dark stains had spread across the teal-colored leather of her jacket. She was so real, so tangible, and–
Hannah's head snapped up, round azure-blue eyes darting to Lilly's before narrowing into thin slits. "What do you want?" Her voice came out as a sharp whisper, her Southern accent stretching her words into a languid drawl before ending in a soft hiccup.
"Well, I…" What was it again that she wanted? Why had she followed Hannah? Her mind stayed blank while Hannah's sharp gaze bore into her with growing intensity. God. How did Hannah still make her feel so starstruck?
Lilly shut her eyes for a second, then blinked them open. Right. The diary. She took a deep breath. "What if I told you I'm from the future?"
Hannah's short giggle fluttered in the cold air. She wrinkled her nose as if to say, What in the Sam Hill…? or whatever weird Southern thing she'd say. Her expression slackened, and her head lolled back against the tree trunk. "Larry… am I right?"
High. Hannah thought she was high. Of course, she did. What else was she supposed to think? Lilly rubbed a hand over the goosebumps on her arm. "Yeah."
Hannah's gaze dropped to her shoulder, where she picked at loose threads sticking out from several gaps in the embroidered sequin pattern. Another tiny hiccup escaped her lips and her eyes flicked back up, half-lidded. "Did you want somethin' else? I'm tryin' to hide…"
A rustle of clothing brushing against branches broke through the stillness around them.
"From the paparazzi?"
Hannah dropped her hand from the sequins and her lips puckered into a pout. "From their cameras." She pulled her knees closer to her chest. "If I'd just seen 'em sooner…"
"You do know they're sneaking around in the bushes, right?"
"Which is why they wouldn't expect me to be here." Hannah's eyes drifted shut, and she buried her face between her knees. Her husky voice came out as a mumble. "Those low-down varmints always make up the nastiest stories that drag my name through the mud."
Shoe soles slid over roots and crunched on dry foliage.
"I want to be alone." Another mumble. "Go before they find us… please."
Lilly drew in a long breath and let it out in a cold, shuddering exhale. Hannah couldn't help her. So what now? Just wait and do nothing, hoping the diary would send her back on its own?
Lilly turned toward the gap in the low-hanging branches but hesitated.
Jake sat on the edge of the swimming pool, his pants rolled up, feet dangling in the water. His arm brushed against the slender arm of a girl whose chestnut-colored hair rested on her shoulders.
Someone should be looking out for Hannah. Why wasn't he protecting his girlfriend from the paparazzi? So much for Boyfriend of the Year.
A young man strode over to the pool and bent down toward Jake, auburn bangs falling over his eyes. His lips moved in silent urgency, but Jake shook his head. The man pressed his lips together, turned away, and approached a group sitting cross-legged in a circle on the ground. His question was met with blank stares and half-hearted shrugs. He exhaled through gritted teeth and scanned the area, a crease deepening between his brows. He yanked a phone from his pocket and jabbed at the keypad before pressing it to his ear.
The digital beats of a catchy ringtone burst from behind Lilly and she spun around.
Hannah fumbled through her silver leather handbag resting at her feet and fished out a bubblegum pink cell phone. She jabbed at a button, and the ringing stopped. She let her head fall back against the tree trunk and squeezed her eyes shut with a groan, then scrambled to her feet.
She staggered toward Lilly, their eyes locking for a heartbeat before Hannah's gaze dropped and she stepped out of the thicket.
"Do you ever answer your phone? I've been tryin' to reach you for half an hour!" The man's voice rang through the dense wall of leaves.
Lilly turned back to the gap between the branches.
"Gosh, Jackson." Hannah stopped a few feet away and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "You don't got to yell. I turned it off, okay?"
"And that's exactly what you're not supposed to do."
"Sorry, Daddy." Her voice dripped with drowsy sarcasm.
Jackson stepped closer, meeting her gaze at eye level. "Yep, that's right. He's gonna be real mad when I tell him. An' if he realizes you're three sheets to the wind…" He clicked his tongue.
Was Jackson her brother?
Camera shutters snapped open and slammed shut in a discord of click-clacks. Bursts of blinding white light exploded around Lilly.
Hannah squinted, jerked her head to the side, and thrust her open palm toward the flashes. "Can we just go home already?"
Jackson closed his eyes for a moment, and his chest heaved with a deep inhale. Without a word, he turned and disappeared from Lilly's sight. Hannah followed.
Somewhere behind Lilly, shoes slid over roots and scraped over dry ground.
Lilly stiffened her shoulders and curled her toes against the gritty ground. Even if Hannah didn't know about the diary's magic, there had to be a reason Lilly had ended up with her twice.
A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision. Lilly spun around. The whites of eyes gleamed between twisted branches, pupils locked onto her through the dark.
Lilly jolted. She leaped onto the sandstone-tiled ground.
Jackson strode past the DJ booth and Hannah staggered behind him. She swayed off course, her knees bumping against a lounge chair, which screeched against the stone. She tumbled forward, arms flailing, but managed to steady herself. A grimace flickered across her face as she glanced around as if checking whether anyone had seen her stumble. She straightened and continued after Jackson.
Lilly followed them down a sandstone path sloping past the mini villa and a wrought-iron fence. Beyond the ornate bars, a steep cliff plunged into the dark ocean that stretched to the horizon. A glowing halo outlined the full moon, which rippled a silver path across the waves below.
Jackson and Hannah stopped in front of a tiny nineties-style car parked along the circular driveway, scattered with only a few other vehicles.
Lilly pressed herself against the trunk of a pine tree, her palms braced against its rough bark. She peeked through the low-hanging branches, the smell of earth, honeyed pine, and lemony resin hovering in the air.
Jackson slammed the car door behind him. Hannah struggled into the passenger seat, knees first, knocking into the doorframe before the rest of her body tumbled after. The engine roared to life, and the car's tires crunched on asphalt. Lilly waited until the red taillights faded into the darkness, then stepped out from behind the tree.
Cool air settled on her bare skin, sending shivers rippling down her body. If only she could enter the villa. How much longer would she have to endure the cold? What if she never returned? A rush of hot blood set her cheeks ablaze and spread warmth up her neck. No. That couldn't happen. It just couldn't. She drew quick, shallow breaths. The roaring in her ears clashed with the thunder of waves crashing against the cliffs below.
What if she was trapped here forever? What if–
An explosion of nausea tore through Lilly's stomach, so abruptly that she doubled over and gasped for air.
Oh Jesus, not again. She groped through cool emptiness until her trembling fingers brushed against the rough bark of the tree. She braced herself against it.
Colors swirled together – khaki bled into sepia, sepia into beige.
Was she about to return–
Another explosion of nausea hit her.
Oh God.
Blurry sandstone spun toward her…
Light seeped through the thin veil of her closed eyelids in warm hues of red and draped her in a weightless cloak of warmth.
She was back. Lilly's breaths slowed into a deep, steady rhythm. She was really back.
She cracked her eyes open just a fraction, the light filtering through her lashes. Lilly dragged herself upright in her plastic chair. The heaviness in her shoulders pulled her forward, but she straightened and pushed back against it.
The black tarp hung loose from the sidewall of the stage and fluttered in a light breeze.
That cold… that lingering uncertainty of whether she would ever return. Lilly sat up too fast, and a dull headache bloomed behind her brow. She pinched the bridge of her nose. And that door. That creepy door that wouldn't budge for her.
The diary sparkled at her feet.
Never again. She snatched it up and lifted it over her shoulder, ready to hurl it down the row of seats.
Her heart clenched, so sudden and unexpected, that her arm froze mid-air.
This feeling… Why? Lilly let the diary sink down and frowned at its rose-colored cover. It was just a book. An inanimate object. Yeah, it was probably enchanted. How else could it send her back in time? But why was it? Magic didn't just exist for its own sake, did it? Someone must have created it for a reason. But for what purpose?
She pressed her fingers into the diary's flexible plastic cover and rose-colored glitter particles scattered light in all directions. This wasn't just any enchanted book. It was Hannah's diary, Hannah's enchanted diary.
Lilly slumped back into the seat and her gaze fell on the white graffiti along the edge of the stage: Hannah, where are you?
Good question. Something tugged at her heart. It was like… an invisible threat? She tilted her head toward the sun and let her eyelids lower into a squint that filtered the harsh light. Somehow… the two diary entries felt like a silent cry for help. Had whatever made Hannah feel so hopeless also led to her disappearance?
Her grip on the diary tightened.
If this was really Hannah's diary, maybe it held clues to why she had vanished.
Her gaze shifted back to the graffiti. Dried white streaks ran from the sprayed letters where the paint had been applied too thick.
But even if she uncovered the truth, even if she figured out what had happened – would it matter? Whatever had happened was six years ago. It was too late to help Hannah.
Lilly swallowed and ran her fingertip along the diary's sharp plastic edge. But that man on the beach… He'd pointed her to the cardboard box. Surely, he must've had a reason for wanting her to find it.
She fidgeted with the book on her lap, then flipped it open. The first two double pages were still blank, and the entry that had brought her to the birthday party was also missing. That entry had been dated May, right? And the one that brought her to the concert was October, wasn't it?
But wasn't that kinda impossible? How could someone write diary entries out of order?
That man probably knew more. She could pay him a visit, but–
The sun hung directly overhead, casting short shadows.
Oh God, it had to be noon already. This was bad. Seriously bad. She had already wasted too much time – time she couldn't afford to lose. She should've been back in Long Beach by now, hunched over her desk, catching up on her coursework.
Lilly shoved the diary into her shoulder bag and yanked the strap across her body. She rushed toward the stairs. She had to pass her final exams, or else–
Her foot caught on the edge of a seat, and she stumbled but caught herself. No, there couldn't be an or else. She had to pass. Everything depended on that college degree.
Lilly shuffled up the sunlit concrete stairs, her short shadow zigzagging across the steps. After getting that degree, there was still so much to do. Applying for an entry-level Crime Scene Investigator position. Maybe taking a few more advanced courses to boost her qualifications. And then, she could finally make things right.