After she showered and dressed, Lyla slipped out onto the porch, Pop-Tart in hand, and scanned the front yard. Good news. The line of salt spanning the driveway hadn't completely dissipated and Clover was nowhere in sight. The only activity, a pair of goldfinches pilfering seeds from the neighbor's echinacea flower heads.

Lyla pushed her damp hair behind her ear, bit into her pink-frosted Pop-Tart, then checked her phone for the time. 7:36.

Darcy's car stopped at the end of the driveway, startling the finches. Lyla shouldered her book bag and called to her dad. "Darcy's here. See you later."

"Bye," he replied, poking his head out the door.

When she got into the car she was struck by her friend's appearance. "So what happened to roll-out-of-bed-ten-minutes-before-school Darcy?"

Darcy shrugged, a little embarrassed.

"Wow. Makeup and everything. For school?"

"Did I overdo it with the fragrance? I overdid it, right?"

With her mouth full of toaster pastry, Lyla nodded.

"Okay, here's the thing," Darcy said, steering the car away from the curb. "Julian Barber asked me to the Fall Dance."

"Homecoming?"

"No, not Homecoming, it's some other Fall Dance. Some football awards thing. I think. So... Julian Barber asked me."

"You don't need to keep saying his full name," said Lyla. "I know which Julian you mean."

"Okay. Geez. So Julian asked me to the dance kinda last minute. Maybe Victoria backed out. I don't know. I know he was seeing Fallon for a while. But anyway, I'll take it."

"There's a point, right?"

"Okay. So here's the thing. I need to pick out a dress. Obvi."

"Right?" She finished her breakfast.

"But on the other track, Richie just got dumped."

"By Ash?"

"Yep. Caught him cheating."

"That's the problem with super hot guys," Lyla sighed. "They have the whole menu to pick from." She licked the strawberry stickiness from her fingertips.

"Soooooooo... Richie called me. Again kinda last minute."

"I get it. You want me to hold Richie's hand so you can go shopping without feeling like the most selfish friend in the world."

"Which I kinda am. Plus, to be honest, you're not the most helpful human when it comes to fashion."

"Oof. What part of that wasn't rude?"

"So, he's gonna pick you up after school."

"Think you coulda maybe asked me first?"

"What? Like you got big plans?"

"I might. You never know."

Darcy gave her the side-eye as they pulled to a stop in front of the hospital.

"You owe me," Lyla said sharply.

"Right, right, right," said Darcy dismissively.

"Seriously. You totally owe me for this." She unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed open the door. "And tell Richie not to be late. If I come out here and don't see his car, I am not waiting around."

Darcy stared at her blankly.

"The whole Keenan's crazy mother who wants to murder me thing? Remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, I know."

"Seriously. If he's one minute late, I'm gone."

"Thanks, girl. I'm sorry I'm so..."

"I'll fill in the word later," said Lyla before slamming the door.

........

Following Matthew's afternoon session, Lyla stopped in the hospital atrium on her way to the exit and went to the windows.  A swirl of crispy amber leaves skipped across the walkway. Squinting out toward the street, she saw a woman get out of a yellow car that then drove off. A silver car, also not Richie's car, took its place at the curb. 

Where is he? Late, as usual.

She texted: Hey. Where are you?

No answer.

After a sigh of frustration, she watched her classmates filter through the lobby one by one. 

Natalie noticed her at the windows. "Need a ride?"

"Waiting for a friend." Lyla shifted her eyes out the window. Still no Richie. She checked her phone. No answer. She felt her cheeks flush.

I knew it.

Text tone. She was surprised to see it was Packer instead of Richie.

Packer: Hey. Cal U?

Lyla: Yeah. 😄

A moment later, he called.

"Hey, so," he said.

"How are you?"

"Could you? Maybe could you... come?"

"Today?"

"Right now."

"I can't. Sorry."

"Oh, okay. I was..."

"I wish I could."

"Not going. Not a new, not a... new boyfriend, I hope?"

"No. No. Nothing like that. I gotta help out--"

"Okay. Bye." He abruptly ended the call. 

"Freakin' great," she mumbled, tucking away her phone.

She paced to the sliding glass doors and stepped outside, carefully scanning the busy driveway, sidewalk, and lawn. Herds of unfamiliar people flowed past one another like a rushing river cascading and bifurcating around rocks. But thankfully, no Rose.

Lyla advanced a few tentative steps from the hospital entrance then put on the brakes, suffering sensory overload. She could too easily become distracted by the overwhelming churn of humanity and lose sight of the lurking predator. She decided to retreat to the safety of the lobby to consider her options. When she abruptly spun around, she collided with a woman. A tumbleweed of gray and white hair obscured the woman's face.

An explosion of panic ravaged Lyla when she felt hands clamping her arms. She clenched her eyes in anticipation of the sharp pain of a blade ripping into her abdomen. 

A middle-aged man shouted, "Mom!"

Wide-eyed, Lyla realized that she had nearly flattened the man's elderly, white-haired mother.

"What's the matter with you?" The man growled at Lyla. "Watch where you're going!" 

"Sorry, I was--"

"You almost knocked her down!"

"I'm so sorry."

"Mom, are you okay?" The man helped to steady his fragile mother who appeared shaken.

Lyla picked up her cane from the sidewalk and handed it to the elderly woman.

A car horn beeped. Lyla looked over her shoulder grateful to see Richie waving his arm out the window of his car. She scurried down the sidewalk through a blurry stream of pedestrians then jumped into the vehicle.

"Did I just see you try to steal some senior citizen's cane?" he said, adjusting his polarized Raybans.

"Hurricane Lyla, leaving a path of destruction in my path." She closed the door and buckled up, then shifted into Ms. Sunshine mode. "Look at you, Mr. Fancy Pants," referring to his linen shirt and gingham blazer.

"I'm making an effort to look better on the outside than I feel on the inside."

"Well, you look amazing. As usual."

"On the outside. On the inside, I'm a boy filled with sadness and Taylor Swift lyrics."

Uh oh.

She was pretty sure he was crying behind his sunglasses. 

He drove down the street. "I really thought he was the one," he said, his voice quivering.

What could she say? 

He checked his phone. "Just saw your message. Sorry."

After an uncomfortable pause, she asked, "So, where are we going?"

"So I caught him cheating and he dumps me. That's just not how it's supposed to work."

He obviously needed to vent. 

"Maybe I was too needy. Because there's no hiding needy. Do you think I was too needy?"

They stopped at a traffic light.

"Well," said Lyla. "Actually, I only saw you two together once. At my house when you brought those flowers."

"I should be having this convo with Darcy girl."

"Sorry, I'm not Darcy."

He patted her thigh. "That's not what I meant. You're sweet to hold my hand."

She took it as a hint and clasped his hand, which brought a slight smile.

"I'm not gonna lie." He sniffled. "There were signs. Signs that I chose to ignore."

"Right."

"The first time we went out he said why Richie? Why not Richard?" His tone sharpened. "Name- shaming on the first date. Big red flag and I gave him a pass." 

When she turned to look out the window she was jolted by the peculiar little girl in the tattered dress standing on the sidewalk a few feet away, a disturbing expression on her waxy face.

"Darcy saw me and Ash..." Richie struggled to compose himself. "More than a few times. She said we made a super cute couple."

The little girl stepped off the sidewalk, crunching through a layer of dried leaves, and approached the car. Lyla hit the window switch. The pane of glass rose slowly. The child tapped on Lyla's window.

Richie looked straight ahead. He didn't see or hear her. "I'm not gonna lie. Super cute is a major understatement."

How long is this damn light?

The little demonic puppet tapped again. Her smile broadened as she raised a fist. She rotated her hand and unfurled her fingers displaying the ring. She mouthed, "Ouroboros." The pinched smile returned. "Before it's too late," she whispered, fogging the glass.

Lyla desperately wanted to turn away but she felt the pull of the chestnut doll's eyes, perfectly symmetrical, connected to nothing human.  

At last, the light changed and they escaped through the intersection as the child vanished in a swirl of brittle leaves.