Page 33 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

I snatch my house keys out of my bag and unlock the door. I check Kane and Gray’s room but find it empty. I know Gray caught a ride with his friends since there’s a party tonight. I figure Kane’s in the shed, working on another masterpiece.

I slow down as I approach the shed, listening in to make sure Kane isn’t in the middle of a song, but I don’t hear anything. I don’t think he’s in there.

He had the shed to himself yesterday. Maybe he decided to take the night off.

The inside of the shed is pitch-black. And there’s a strong smell of paint in the air.

Normally I wouldn’t think twice about it, but I haven’t used the shed to paint since Monday, and the smell shouldn’t be this overwhelming.

I activate the flashlight on my phone to see where I’m going as I amble to the Christmas lights and plug them in.

The lights come on…

And my jaw drops.

In the corner of the shed is the painting I’ve been working on for weeks.

The one of Kane playing the guitar with his head hanging low. The one I kept covered so that he wouldn’t find out that I was painting him.

It’s completely ruined.

Covered in holes.

It also looks like a bucket of black paint was dropped on top of it. And that’s not even the worst part.

There are two words, written in red paint in the center of the canvas…

You Promised.

* * *

Hadley

Kane, I’m so sorry.

Hadley

I don’t know what I was thinking.

Hadley

I should’ve never posted the video.

Hadley

Please talk to me.

He hasn’t answered any of my messages.

It’s been hours.

He didn’t eat dinner with us tonight. Nor did Evie. Mom just said they’d gone out to grab a bite because they had important things to discuss. I tried to pry more information out of her, but she wouldn’t tell me a thing, vague as can be.

I retreated to my bedroom a half hour later and spent the rest of the evening impatiently waiting for Evie and Kane to pull into the driveway.

There’s a pit in my stomach—a big one—but I still manage to drift off to sleep at around 10:30 p.m., only to be woken up an hour later by my phone buzzing.

I half expect it to be a wrong number or Lacey drunk-texting me about a boy but the sender is none of the above.