Having Two Mates {2024}

PROLOGUE.

Haley's father's death is sudden but not unexpected.

He has been ill, her mother tells her. The severity, however, is withheld even as she stands at his grave site.

It is a closed casket funeral. Her mother, Elyse, appears to be the only one who knows the specifics. Keeps it that way too. In between preparing for his death in secret, she arranges his funeral and moves the whole family to Newport, his hometown.

If being tight-lipped about his imminent death was a superpower, she's overpowered.

Despite it all, the bags under her eyes are winning the battle between her concealer. She leaves Haley to her own devices to feed herself while she is out tying all her father's loose ends. She is always busy. Never sleeping. Barely saying a word to Haley except to ensure she's at the right place at the right time. Doing this and that at the time to do so—taking her medicine, packing and unpacking, cooking and cleaning. Her mother is far from a helicopter parent but her father's death is changing so much.

Haley spares a glance in Spence's direction. His black umbrella obscures his face but she can see how tight his jaw is. His knuckles pale around the handle. He didn't want to give an eulogy but his pride as the eldest son, only son, gets the better of him.

On the other hand, Haley still isn't allowed so much to speak or really look at anyone at the service. Her mother asks her to wear a black veil with specific instructions to never take it off. It is meant to be a small gathering. Close friends and family. But the amount of black umbrellas crowding the cemetery argues otherwise.

It seems like the whole city is here for this one man.

Haley scans the faces she doesn't know. But the way they look back feels as if they know her.

A chill runs down her spine. The cold, winter air gusts through. Ominous energy dances in the air. Salty and bitter. The pouring rain is not as cold as the stares some of the attendees have. Almost as if to spit at Haley that her father's death is her fault. Perhaps a stretch but no one has really reassured her otherwise.

With no awareness of the severity of her father's sudden death, she wonders how she is expected to grieve this loss. Wonders why her mother's grip is so tight on her shoulders—she doesn't plan on running nor cause a scene to demand answers. It's not far off from what Haley can do. The truth, however, is Haley isn't close to her father enough to even pass off a tantrum as a daughter grieving. Something told her the extra attendees here would see right through it.

Everything about this felt strange.

Then across the crowd, another veiled figure trains their eyes on Haley. She can't see what they look like but she recognizes the fear rattling her bones. The air chilling even more that her teeth chatter. Her grip tightens on her own umbrella. A sudden wave of nausea. A dizzy spell causes her to lose her balance, leaning on her mother for support.

Haley thinks her mother whispers to ask if she is okay but there are other voices and whispers overlapping hers. Chills crawling up her body. Her legs shaking beneath her. Haley focuses on her mother's touch, regulating her breathing and trying her hardest not to draw any attention to herself outside of the norm for a funeral.

When she looks back in the direction of the mysterious veiled figure . . .

They're gone.