By the time I reach the edge of the forest, my legs feel like they’re about to collapse beneath me.
I catch my breath for a moment under the shade of a huge oak tree, trying to process everything that just happened.
I ran into Bea. I tried to speak to her. Then she burst into flames and disappeared.
Impossible. Just… impossible.
It’s hard to accept the finality of what I saw. I need to know for sure whether or not that thing was really Bea. Even if it means I might be putting myself in danger.
I step out into the road, looking down Greenbriar Terrace. Bea lives just a short walk away, in Arlington Heights, neatly sandwiched between the forest and the Japanese Gardens. During the day, she’s usually one of two places – managing the Rose Inn, which is on the front of her property, or doi
