Perhaps it was mating season. The unnerving symphony of insects sawing, buzzing, droning, and chirping was unusually loud. Even with the windows rolled up, the thrumming song penetrated Jack's parked car, seeping in through every gap and vent. Waves of sound relentlessly rolled across the parking lot pavement, building in intensity before engulfing the car.

"Let me show you something," she said searching for the photos of the Ames burial ground on her phone. "This is it," she said with a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "This is where we need to bury him."

He took one look at the eerie site and sighed, "Holy shit."

"I know, right?"

He sat there with his eyes locked on the phone.

"You went out there all by yourself?"

"A field trip to a creepy old family boneyard is not a plus-one event."

"Wow."

The broken-down, wrung-out version of Jack sat less than two feet from her. Lack of sleep and unrelenting, raging tension had drained his vitality but for Lyla, sixty percent of Jack was a one hundred percent improvement over every other guy she'd ever met. She couldn't tamp down her infatuation and the moment he made eye contact with her, he could see it.

"You haven't told anyone about this, have you?" he asked. "Not even Darcy?"

"Hell, no. Have you?"

"Who would believe me?"

"Carissa?"

He shook his head. "This is just between me and you. It needs to stay that way."

"Totally. We made a promise if you recall."

He scanned the parking once again then asked, "Can you do a trip out there tomorrow morning?"

"To the graveyard?"

"No. Back where..."

"Not sure if I can remember..."

"Between me and you, I think we can figure it out."

She offered a weak smile.

"It's gotta be during the day," he said. "You mind cutting class? I don't want to get you in trouble."

She couldn't stifle a laugh.

"You know what I mean," he said, embarrassed.

"Pick me up in front of school?"

Jack averted his eyes. "I'm not allowed on school property."

"Okay. Down the street at the bagel place."

"That'll work. See you at nine?"

"Nine. Yeah, okay."

The prospect of spending the day with Jack excited her. It would be just the two of them alone in the woods.

He recognized the flame flickering in her eyes.

"You need to understand something. What we're about to do isn't about anything except putting an end to all this."

"I know," she said meekly.

"I need this to be super clear. I'm in love with Carissa. I need her back in my life. I will do anything to get her back. Nothing is more important to me. Nothing. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her blood pressure rising.

"I shouldn't have let—"

"Just stop," Lyla interrupted. "I get it."

Why was she torturing herself again? She needed to move on. She'd always have the memory of those soft kisses, the memory of being in his strong arms, the memory of lying beneath him, consumed by passion. Those had been such powerful emotional experiences that they were more than memories. They were life-changing events that had been seared into her DNA. They would always be a part of her, no matter what happened in the future.

He dropped off Lyla in front of her house. "See you in the morning."

She replied with a polite smile then walked toward her house serenaded by the raucous sounds of insects. The buzzing continued to intensify until Lyla stepped onto her porch.

Then silence.

She looked out across her front yard and beyond.

No movement, no sound.

"Ow!"

She felt a sharp pain at her ankle. A large blackbird stood at her feet and pecked her leg.

"Get out of here!" She kicked. The bird lunged, beak open, and nipped at her knee.

She swung her bag. The bird cawed aggressively, took to the air briefly, turned, and attacked. She screamed and twisted out of the way. She could feel the tips of its feathers grazing her cheek.

"Dad!" she called.

Ryan threw open the door. "What's going on out here?"

"A bird," her voice cracked.

He stepped out onto the porch, surveyed the area. "A bird? Where?"

He held the door open. "Come on inside."

Lyla slinked into the entryway. He noticed the bite mark on her knee.

"The bird did that?"

"It was a big blackbird."

"Let's get that cleaned up." He went to the kitchen sink, she followed. Lyla trembled as he dabbed the wound.

"Doesn't look too bad," he said.

"Scared me."

"I bet. You hungry? There's leftover—"

"No, thanks. I ate."

"That's really strange. A bird at night. Hardly ever see one. Did you disturb its nest?"

"A nest on our porch?"

He shrugged.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and lie down."

"You know anything about this?" he asked.

When she turned, her heart seized in her chest. In her dad's hand was her gray and white striped top.

He looked her squarely in the eyes. "This is yours, right?"

"Yeah," she gulped. "I... I..." She couldn't find words.

"It was out in the backyard. Back there by the shed," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Smells like it could use a good washing."

She snatched it from her father's hand. She could feel him watching her climb the stairs to the second floor and disappear into her room.

"Damn it!" Lyla plucked scissors from her desk drawer and savagely tore into the shirt. With every snip and tear, she cursed under her breath.

As she prepared for bed that evening, she couldn't put the thoughts of the shirt and the blackbird out of her mind.

Ryan popped his head into her room. "You gonna be okay tonight?"

She nodded then turned off her desk lamp. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light.

"I don't mind staying with you," he said.

"Thanks." She smiled. "I'm fine."

She crawled into bed, pulled the covers beneath her chin, burrowed into her pillow, and slipped restlessly off to sleep.