Page 12 of A Sea of Unspoken Things

Her eyes found me again, a glimmer of pride in them now. “Almost six years ago, but I’m almost always one employee short during soccer season. You know how it is around here.”

I nodded in response, glancing again to the banner taped inside the post office window across the street.

Cougar Land

The entire town revolved around the team during soccer season. Because of it, the school was flooded with funds, despite its rural location, and businesses even shut down on tournament weekends. The headline of nearly every paper detailed a chronicle of the most recent game, and once the season was over, the town went back to being not much more than a supply stop for hunters and loggers.

I took a sip of the coffee before I pulled my phone from my pocket and unlocked it, opening the Wi-Fi settings.

“Looking for this?” Sadie pointed to a handwritten sign posted beside the coffee machine. It had the network name and password scrawled in marker.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“You’d think in 2024 you’d at least be able to get those things to make a call, but service is still too weak in most places. But we put in one of those internet satellite systems a couple of years ago and business has never been better. Isn’t that right, Harold?” She gave the red-bearded man at the end of the counter a wink before she moved back down to the register.

I typed in the Wi-Fi password and a series of email and app alerts stacked on the screen as soon as it was connected. There was a voicemail from my neighbor in San Francisco about picking up my mail and another from Quinn saying he’d give me another call in the morning to check in. I opened my email next, scrolling through a smattering of unread messages. The only one of consequence was from Rhia, the gallery curator at Red Giant Collective, where three of my pieces were being included in an upcoming show.

I pulled out Johnny’s laptop, just barely finding the space on the counter to open it, and logged in to his bank account. I’d jotted down the list of photos I had to track down, followed by the records I neededto locate for Quinn, which included financial reports Johnny was behind on. The portion of the grant money he had been issued had to be accounted for on a quarterly basis, and Johnny hadn’t submitted anything for the last two. That didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t imagine that admin and red tape were ever something he’d managed to get good at.

I downloaded the statements from the last six months so they could be printed out back at the cabin, and then started on the list I’d made that morning. I hadn’t found any files for Johnny’s field notes, which meant he probably hadn’t started transcribing them. That meant that someone at CAS would have to do it, but not before I had a chance to take a look at the records from the days before Johnny’s death.

I reached into my pocket for the roll of film that had been tucked into his jacket and set it down on the counter, placing my chin in my hand as I stared at it. If the numbers on the tube were a date like I thought, the photos were from two days before Johnny died. The images on the negatives might even be the last photos he’d ever taken.

I unlocked my phone, finding the number Micah had sent me for Olivia Shaw. But my fingers hovered midair, my mind turning with what to say. The last time I’d seen Olivia, I’d lied to her, but that wasn’t why I’d never talked to her again. The reason was because she’dknownit.

Hi Olivia, it’s James Golden. Micah told me I could swing by. Is now okay?

I hit send, and only a few seconds later, a reply made the phone vibrate in my hand.

Hey James!! Sure thing. I’ll be here until six. Can’t wait to see you.

I let out a steady breath, relieved, as my eyes lifted over the screen of the laptop, finding Olivia’s face in the framed photographs on the wall. Her dark curly hair was escaping the ponytail it was pulled into, and the lower half of her round face was hidden by a scarf around herneck. But the movement of a shadow on the glass made me tense up again. I was almost sure that I could make out Johnny’s reflection. His dark hair and wide shoulders took shape in the glare of light, but when I turned around again, the booth by the window was still empty.

I closed the laptop and reached into my coat, finding the few bills I had tucked into the pocket.

Sadie waved me off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh.” I glanced to the empty coffee cup. “I appreciate that.”

“You’ll be back. Don’t worry.” She smirked. “A couple of weeks is plenty of time to rack up a bill around here.”

“Thanks.”

She set both hands on the counter, watching me slip the laptop into my bag. Her mouth opened, then closed before she spoke again. “Micah’s taken it really hard, you know—Johnny’s death.”

I was a little thrown by the sudden change in subject, my hands faltering on the zipper of the bag. I looked up at her.

“He’s…he’s not himself, James,” she said. “I’d suggest treading lightly.”

The words sounded like a warning, or a boundary she was making. It felt almost territorial. My smile tightened, and from the look on her face, Sadie noticed the change in the air between us.

I stood. “Thanks again.”

“Sure thing.” She fetched a new rag off the back counter and went back to wiping, but I could feel her gaze on me as I made my way to the door.

The six of us—me, Johnny, Micah, Sadie, Olivia, and Griffin—had been a kind of pack before Griffin died. But after his death, Johnny, Micah, and I became the subject of every conversation in town. After that, we’d formed a tightly closed unit to protect ourselves and one another from those whispers. The result was a separation between the three of us and Olivia and Sadie, and I imagined that when I left, a new line of alliances had formed. What Sadie wasn’t saying was that I hadn’t been in that circle for a long time. And she would close ranks if she had to.

Five