"Yeah boy?"

"Next Sunday, you better make enough pie to feed two grown men."

It took Peter Everdeen-a tall, bristly-faced man with a permanent 'no bullshit' expression-six Sundays, eight pies, and half of the summer to finally unearth the remains of a train car. We crossed over thirty acres of Pearl's land, unloaded two dump trunks full of dirt, grass, and strangled weeds.

I collected a box from Pearl, filled with hundreds of pictures, and articles. I found myself surrounded by numbers and stories and inklings of the heartbeat I had searched so hard to find, and yet, I still hadn't collected enough to ease the aching inside of my chest.

To Remember "An assassin," Nick said.

"No."

"A Chinese spy," he tried again.

"She's American, idiot. Blond hair, green eyes."

"Human trafficking. Brighton smuggled her in, and married her at age fifteen."

I sighed as we watched the ocean waves roll. "I thought you were good at conspiracy theories, Nick? Who the hell is going to believe any of those?"

"I thought the last one seemed pretty legit, given the shit you've told me about her dad." He shrugged, swallowing down the last sip of his beer.

"It should be something positive. I don't want Everly remembered as a damn traitor or child bride."

"So an assassin, then?"

"Be-leave-A-bull."

He laughed, sinking down into the sand. "I'm no good with fairytales, brother."

Tatum found us on the beach and took a seat on Nick's lap, handing him another beer. He took a sip and passed it back, but she shook her head.

"What's with you tonight?" he asked. "You're sober as a . . . Callum. You're as sober as him."

She smiled. "Just don't wanna get all sleepy."

"You're a liar," he said before he took a long sip. "What's with you? Tell me."

She glanced between us and then said, "Pregnant women can't drink."

"Yeah, so what does that have to do-oh Holy Christ."

I smiled, but looked away, feeling too much like I was spying on a secret.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't want to say anything this weekend."

I shook my head, knowing what she meant. "I'm happy for you, Tater."

"Yeah?"

"Of course. You're my best friend."

I glanced to Nick, but he was still as a statue.

"Think he's going into shock?" She laughed.

But before I could reply, he pulled her against him so fiercely I was almost afraid he would crush her from his hold. They spoke in hushed Greek as I watched the waves. And dreamed.

And dreamed.

And dreamed.

And dreamed.

When I reached the top of the lighthouse, I pulled one of the pictures Pearl had given me from my pocket. I showed it to the sun and I allowed the wind to dance across her innocent face. And with one flick of my fingers, I gave her back to the sky, as I allowed the picture to fly away, answering her question from the last Fourth of July.