Chapter 45

When we drove by my nightmare black yard, I made Callum stop.

"Tram?" I called before I was even out of the car. The dark, rain-soaked tree crumbled into mush under my fingers. "I need you."

The earth gave a low rumble. Roots broke through, twisting and pulling the ground apart, until the top of Tram's head emerged. His face didn't appear to have any new bruises or gashes, but his old ones still looked painful.

"Gretchen's cult," I said, breathless, and took his hands. "It's a spider bitch convention at Whaty-Whats. That was why it was undetectable to you."

Tram's eyebrows joined together. "Where?"

I groaned. "I don't know the actual name of the store."

"Hang on." Callum slammed his door with his hip, fingers flying over his cell phone. "What Gifts She Carried. On the corner of Second and Main Street."