Gray After Dark

by Noelle W. Ihli

The fact that I’d never see that look again—and the fact that it was my fault—was an ache I knew would never go away.

Opening up your heart is messy—and risky. But keeping your heart locked is risky, too.

I learned that it didn’t actually matter whether you kept your heart open or locked. Twisted metal and broken glass sliced through it either way. So did loss.

“I’ve spent plenty of time in the woods.” “Not these woods,” Wes said solemnly, then ducked his head and turned away.

“Wes?” “My coworker,” I clarified. “In the kitchen. He’s like, twenty. And he can’t stop talking about bears. He’s Idaho Dwight Schrute.”

Everything about Hidden Springs screamed, “Welcome to the wilderness, but don’t worry, we know you like things bougie!”

“Rayna was a staff member here. Years ago,” Jennifer finally began. “She went missing,” she added stiffly. “Her body was never recovered.”

What the hell was I going to do if a bear did burst through the treeline and caught sight of me in the lake, looking like a dumpling?

If I swam for the opposite shore, they would shoot me rather than let me get away.

But if I swam toward them, I might wish they had.

I would have cried tears of joy to trade the past two days for a chance to face off with a bear instead of these two monsters.

“I know Hame ain’t much to look at, but you know what they say, ‘All cats look gray after dark.’ You’ll get past his looks. Or lack of ’em.”

Four years ago, a staffer at Hidden Springs had gone missing. Killed by a bear, they thought. While on a run in the woods.

“You’re her,” I whispered, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. “You’ve been here for four years. Everyone thinks a bear killed you.”

She terrified me, that was true, but she also made my heart hurt. Because regardless of the fact that she was intent on holding me prisoner here, there was no doubt in my mind that she was a prisoner too.

I welcomed the darkness. Anymore, it was my only friend.

“Opening up your heart is messy—and risky. But keeping your heart spotless is risky too,”

Her mouth made a shocked O shape. “You’ve won gold medals?” I tried not to let my irritation show. “No, but if you’re good enough to get to the Olympics, you’re damn good. Okay? I’m damn good.”

I gritted my teeth. I’d been their pet for months, but they didn’t know a thing about me.

A rabbit pendant, identical to the ones she’d given Brent and me right before the race. For luck. For speed. For the reminder that no matter what happened, we’d already won.