Six months later, the sunset in swathes of coral and lavender over Portfield's main square. Strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead as the town prepared for midsummer festivities. Patricia paced on the sidewalk outside The Orchard Bistro, checking her watch every few seconds.
She'd arrived early to calm her nerves. Tonight was Laura's birthday dinner - an annual tradition that now carried the weight of half a year of waiting. Brands of guilt scorched her chest: the cryptic phone call, the sudden move to a new apartment, the way she'd pulled away from the friends she loved most.
"Patsy!" Alice's voice rang out before she rounded the corner. Her dark curls were tied back in a loose bun, a few rebellious tendrils framing her face. She swept Patricia into a hug.
"Al!" Patricia exclaimed, relief flooding through her.
Alice pecked her cheek. "You look…worried. Everything okay?"
Patricia forced a smile. "I'm fine. You know me, dramatic as ever."
Alice rolled her eyes affectionately. "Sure. Come on. Lau's already inside."
They slipped into the bistro's warm glow, past rustic wooden tables and walls hung with framed photographs of Portfield landmarks. Laura sat in their usual booth by the window, her long brown hair catching the light as she looked up.
"Happy birthday, Lau!" Patricia and Alice chimed in unison.
Laura's lips curved into a radiant smile that always made Patricia's heart skip. "You two. I missed you so much."
Patricia slid into the seat beside her. "We're here now. And we're not leaving until you're spoiled rotten."
Laura laughed softly. "As always." She cast a meaningful look at Patricia. "You okay, Pat? You seem - - distracted?"
Patricia met her gaze, hesitating. Before she could muster a reassuring lie, Alice chimed in. "She's worried about the summer gala next week. She's baking for three days straight so she won't be ready in time."
Patricia pretended to choke on her water. "I do not!"
Laura shook her head, amusement in her eyes. But something flickered there - a shadow of concern.
The evening passed in a whirl of warm conversation and shared memories. When dessert arrived - a towering chocolate torte with sparklers - Patricia's phone vibrated in her pocket, reminding her of the unknown number still waiting for her response.
She slipped it out and glanced at the screen. No new calls. She breathed out, but tension coiled in her stomach.
As the three friends stepped into the sultry night after dinner, the world felt whole again. They clasped hands and linked arms, the old magic of PAL - and the unspoken promise to stand by one another - glowing between them.
Unseen, across the street, a black SUV idled, engine whispering. In its tinted windows, masked faces watched.
And as Patricia's laughter rang out, a thorn of dread pricked her heart. She didn't know it yet.