Everyone orders—plates of traditional potatoes, grilled sausages, soups I can’t pronounce. The food takes a while, but no one is in a rush, especially since the day is warming up and the slight bite in the air is practically gone, even at this altitude.
I glance at my watch and notice that it’s almost two.
“Remind me what time the train leaves?” I ask, mostly to Elle.
“Five sharp,” she calls down the table. “If you miss it, you’re staying here with the cows and the tiny waterfall.”
10
CONNOR
By the timewe leave the restaurant, the group’s energy has shifted. The air is cooler, the sun a little lower, and the promise of warm baths and wine is pulling everyone back down the trail at a decent pace. We’re walking in loose formation, half listening to Jack and Banks argue about elevation gains and who’s in better shape.
Some of the women are at the front of the pack, very much in conversation with Elle about some of the wedding details. For a woman who plans no less than fifty parties a year, she’s being vague about the particulars—maybe to make sure that everything is a surprise for her guests.
I stay toward the back, walking beside Manuela, who keeps glancing down like something’s bothering her. Sure enough, a few minutes into the descent, she stops and crouches.
“My shoelace is driving me insane,” she mutters, fingers fumbling with the knot. “I think I double knotted it earlier without realizing, and it’s way too tight.”
“Isn’t that the best way to avoid them coming loose?” I say, leaning against a tree.
She doesn’t even look up. “You’d be surprised.”
The others keep going, their voices fading into the trees. No one seems to notice we’ve stopped. It’s not that far behind, but the trail’s narrow, and the sound of leaves underfoot carries weirdly.
By the time she stands up again, we’re alone.
She glances down the trail, then back up. “Did they turn?”
I squint. The trail splits ahead. “Pretty sure they went left.”
“Okay,” she says and continues down the path, no hesitation. “Let’s go left then. Worst case, we’re five minutes behind and we can find our way to the station.”
The path is quieter, less trampled. It doesn’t look like people have come this way recently, but what do I know? The trees thin out in patches, letting in the last of the warm sun. I was expecting a little bit of heat this early in September, but I guess that mountain air behaves differently.
“Do you hear that?” she says, slowing down to a halt in the middle of the path. There is a faint sound of water coming from our right, covered only slightly by the sound of a few birds chirping in whatever is left of the tree canopies. “I think that’s the waterfall.”
We’re halfway down the slope when she speaks again. “Have you ever noticed how group trips like this one work best when everyone knows their role?”
I glance over, studying her. Her cheeks are flushed again, and she has a faint sheen of sweat covering her face. Not sweaty by any means, but something that makes her glow. “What do you mean?”
“Like, someone’s the planner, someone’s the comic relief, someone’s the one who smooths over drama before it explodes.”
I tug at the strap of my bag. “Jack’s family has always kind of operated that way. Big gestures. Big expectations. Everyone slots into a part, whether they want it or not. That is one of the reasons why I think Elle and my cousin are such a good fit.”
Manuela tilts her head, curious but quiet.
“His dad and mine are brothers,” I offer. “So technically, I’ve known him my whole life, but it’s always felt… like their world was a little shinier than mine.” I huff out a breath, not quite a laugh. “My family’s more… traditional? Reputation matters a lot, but it’s quieter. All whispered impressions and carefully curated dinner parties. Jack’s side wants to dazzle a room. Mine just wants the room to nod in approval and go home thinking we’re the most respectable people in attendance.”
She doesn’t say anything at first, instead keeps walking beside me, matching my pace. The descent isn’t as steep as when we got in, and my knees are grateful.
“You’d think it’d be easier, you know?” I add, laughing softly to myself. “Coming on the trip without Athena, without anyone. But it’s not.”
“Why’d you come, then?” she asks inquisitively.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Obligation, maybe. Guilt? Jack asked, and I said yes. Figured I’d show up, blend in, do the thing.”
We round a bend in the trail, and the noise hits us first. The sound of water swells around us, filling the space: big, echoing, alive.
