The Last Secret You'll Ever Keep by Laurie Stolarz (summer reads txt) 📕

Where are the extinguishers? Did Aunt Dessa move them again and rearrange my things? My art supplies are gone now too—my easel, my side table, my crate of paints and sprays …

I get up, noticing the carpeting beneath my feet, as well as the pajamas I’m wearing—the pink ones with the yellow daisies, just like the night of the fire. Somehow, I’m back in my room on Bailey Road. My fuzzy green chair sits opposite my bed. I look up just as a spotlight blinks above my head. The light shines down from a rusted chain, like the one in the well.

Terra? a female voice calls from behind my bedroom door. Can you open up?

“Peyton?” I try the knob, then snatch my hand back. It’s too hot. The metal burns. I turn my hand over to look at my palm. The words To Be Continued are seared into my skin.

Please! Peyton cries. You’re like a sister to me. You have to believe me when I say that your friendship has been the one thing that’s kept me going these past couple of months.

I search for something to use as a buffer, spotting a strewn sock. I slip it on like a glove and grab the knob, aiming for the star. Finally, I’m able to handle it, but the knob falls off in my grip and topples to the floor, shattering like glass. A spill of water surrounds my feet.

The spotlight blinks—one, two, three—before going out completely. And meanwhile, the burning rubber scent fills the room, constricting my breath.

I go for the window, just as my phone chimes. A reminder to take my meds. My doorbell ringtone startles me awake.

I sit up in bed, only to discover I’m in my room, in my aunt’s house. There is no spotlight, no carpeted floors. “It was just a dream,” I mutter to myself.

Crazy Sally used to mutter too, used to talk in her sleep, used to tell herself stories.

I take a deep breath. What is that smell? The burning scent … I get up and check the hallway.

Check the kitchen.

Check the living room.

Check outside.

Nothing.

No flames.

But the bathroom window, across the hall, is open a crack. Is something burning outside? I inhale through the screen, unable to tell.

Meanwhile, my phone continues to chime. I cross back to my room to grab it. It’s not a reminder. Garret’s name flashes across the screen. “Hello?” I answer.

“Hey.”

I stare at my palm. The words from my dream—from the message Peyton received—To Be Continued—appear in blistered red letters. I press my eyes shut and count to three before looking again. The words have vanished. In their place is the phantom burn mark from five years ago, the patch of skin without any lines.

“Terra?” Garret asks. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lie, stretching the truth like bubble gum.

“So, I’m doing research,” he says. “About water wells … I know you’ve been searching for the one in Hayberry Park. I also know it doesn’t seem to exist.”

“You heard that kid in the homeschool class. He saw it too.”

“Or at least he claims he saw it. What if he saw something that appeared to be a well—with a brick base, a wide opening, and that burrowed deep into the ground? But what if it was something else entirely?”

“What are you saying?”

“Ever consider the possibility that maybe you weren’t inside a well?”

“Wait, what? What else could it have been?”

“Well, as I said, I’ve been doing some research, specifically about mining tunnels. I found evidence of salt mines located about a mile from Hayberry. Maybe some of those mines were even closer; maybe they just weren’t documented. From what I’ve seen, some of those underground tunnels went on for miles, branching off in different directions. A lot of them caved in over the years, restricting passageways and creating new crevices. Anyway, it was just a thought.”

Just a thought.

I bite my lip.

What are the odds that I’ve been looking for the wrong thing all this time, assuming the water-well book was indicative of the location? “But don’t you think the park rangers would know if there were an opening to an underground mine? There’s nothing to indicate one on the park map.”

“Right, but the space you were in … it didn’t go anywhere, right? Wasn’t it just a pit? So, maybe it’d been created after the fact—from one of those cave-in situations. Or could it have once been used for storage?”

“Still, don’t you think the rangers would know about it?”

“I guess that depends. Where was it? Hayberry Park spans, like, a bazillion acres. Do you really think the rangers know every inch?”

The hairs at the back of my neck stand on end, as though charged by possibility, like an animated cartoon. “I can’t believe you did all this research.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was fun for me.”

“You can’t be serious. But thank you. So much.”

“No problem. We’ll find the answers. But right now, how about we find ourselves some coffee? Care for a cup of Critter’s?”

“That sounds a little gross.”

“But it’ll taste so good. Can I pick you up?”

There’s so much research I need to do. Plus, I’m supposed to work later. But I tell him okay anyway. “I could use the caffeine.”

“Say no more. I’ll be by in a bit.”

I hang up and look back at my computer screen. My mailbox shows one private message—from Darwin12. I click to open it.

Dear Terra:

I hope I didn’t offend you before. I’m dealing with my own inner gremlins and sometimes I have a hard time knowing boundaries. Anyway, it’s true that Paylee22 and I used to chat a bunch, especially late at night when neither of us could sleep. If I can be at all helpful, just let me know. Believe me, if I could make one wish, it’d be for Paylee22 to log on. I’m worried about her too. I messaged the Jane administrators to see if they know anything. If I hear something, I’ll definitely keep you informed. Here’s wishing us both luck. Talk to