Tunnel of Bones (Cassidy Blake, #2)

by Victoria Schwab

“Maybe is a match in the dark,” I murmur, half to myself. It’s one of Mom’s favorite sayings, for when she gets stuck on a story. She starts giving herself options, potential threads, turning every dead end into a new path with one simple word: maybe. Maybe is a rope in a hole, or the key to a door. Maybe is how you find the way out. We just have to wait for him to show up. We wait. One minute. Three. Five.

I lean against him, just until the air blurs between our shoulders, and this time, when I feel the slight resistance of his body against mine, it doesn’t scare me. Your name is Jacob Ellis Hale, I think. You were born in Strathclyde, New York. Two and half years ago you dove into the river, and last year, you pulled me out. You are my best friend. In life. In death. And everything in between.

He seems happier, lighter, after sharing his story. I feel a little heavier after hearing it, but that’s okay. That’s how friendship works. You learn to share the weight.