The Sky We Seek (Love and Other Dreams #2)

Chapter 43

Elina

Sometimes minutes feel like hours. And hours feel like days. But the way time stretches now surpasses everything. Nervously, I pace back and forth in the train compartment. The elderly couple sitting in the seats near the end of the carriage eyes me skeptically.

They probably think I'm on drugs. But my only drug is impatience.

I check the time again. It's just past twelve. In ten minutes, I should finally arrive. I've already ordered a taxi to pick me up from the station and take me wherever I need to go.

As a precaution, I pick up my backpack and make my way to the exit. I position myself by the door and observe as the scenery rushes past in all shades of green. With the rhythmic clickety-clack of the tracks in my ears, I try to focus.

"Start from the beginning, Elina," I whisper to myself. "First, check his house. Then the mountain rescue team. If he's not there, look for him at Hanna's. And next, at the observatory."

Yes, that's what I'll do. It's the best order to find him quickly.

"And if he's nowhere to be found?" I ask myself so softly that my words get swallowed by the train's rumble. "And if no one has seen him? "

Then I'll wait for him outside his house. I'll just stay there until he shows up.

I nod decisively. "Yes, that's a good plan," I confirm. "And what will you say to him when you meet him?"

I still don't have an answer to that.

Perhaps that I love him, no matter what happens.

The train brakes, and I sway, gripping the metal handle tightly. Carefully leaning forward, I peer through the window of the door.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon be arriving at Semmtal," announces the train conductor through the speakers.

So I'm actually back. And it feels like returning to my second home. With restless legs, I wait until the train finally comes to a stop. Then I press the door button and rush outside. I jump across the tracks, and moments later, panting, I collapse into the front seat of the taxi. The elderly gentleman behind the wheel raises his bushy eyebrows as I give him the address and calmly steers the car away from the parking lot.

As we drive through the village, I incessantly wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. At least my breathing calms down, but my thoughts do the opposite.

The words elude me, and I search desperately for the right ones. I have to find them, that much is clear. But ever since I made the decision yesterday afternoon to come back here, to fight for a happy future with Noah, my mind is blank.

Let's start over.

No, I can't say that. Desperately, I massage my temples and gaze out of the window. I see meadows with cows, forests, and a deep-blue sky adorned with increasingly dense cumulus clouds .

I don't want to be without you, Noah.

The words struggle to form on my lips as they fail to capture the depth of what I feel inside.

"Here in front?" the taxi driver asks.

My gaze shifts to him, noticing his finger pointing toward a driveway.

"Yes, this is where we turn," I confirm, and we bump along the rugged forest path.

Only a few minutes remain for me to gather my thoughts and decide what to say to Noah.

I won't leave you alone. Never. We'll fight together, okay?

The frustration builds inside me, and my fists clench so tightly that my fingernails dig sharply into my palms as I stare through the windshield.

Up ahead, the trees part, revealing the workshop shed. Behind it, the lake.

"Are we in the right place?" the taxi driver asks.

I nod silently, my throat dry as dust.

Before we even come to a stop, I release the seat belt. "Please wait here," I croak and open the car door.

I walk to the house on unsteady legs, only to find that Noah is apparently not here. The space in front of the door seems emptier than usual, but I can't quite put my finger on what's missing. Hastily, I retrieve the key from its hiding place in the handmade mailbox and enter the house. The large living-dining area is empty. The bathroom as well. I continue to the bedroom, but there too, I find only an abandoned bed with rumpled sheets. Just as I turn to leave, I spot an envelope on his bedside table. I step closer.

It's my letter.

How did it end up here?

The last time I had it was when I sat on the porch waiting for the taxi. I had tucked it under the handle of the suitcase. Perhaps it fell to the ground from there before the luggage was stowed in the trunk of the car.

Yes, that must be it.

Absentmindedly, I reach for the envelope. It's torn open, but the letter is still inside. I take it out and unfold it.

The corners of the paper are crumpled, the handwriting blurry in some places.

He has read it.

That's a positive sign. But the fact that he didn't reach out to me afterward can't mean anything good.

I feel tears welling up inside me. To prevent them from flowing, I bite down hard on my lip, place the envelope back, and make my way outside.

The fact that Noah hasn't contacted me won't stop me. Because this is about more than just me. So I continue my search. But I don't find him in his workshop either. I march to the lake and step onto the pier. His boat rocks untouched in the water.

On my way back to the taxi, I look around multiple times, but among the fir trees, only a rabbit hurriedly hops away on the mossy forest floor.

I walk toward the car. "To the mountain rescue center, please," I say before sliding back into the passenger seat.

About ten minutes later, we arrive at the large semi-circular wooden building with its expansive glass front. I rush inside and come across Noah's colleague, whom I already know from the practice and Hanna's birthday party. Breathlessly, I ask her if she knows where Noah is .

She contorts her face thoughtfully. "No idea. He took the whole week off."

Great.

Hanna is my next hope. So I have the taxi driver take me to her place.

Once again, I ask him to wait for me. Instead of knocking, I go directly around the house, searching for Hanna in her beloved garden. There, amid the tall sunflowers, I spot her with a tattered straw hat atop her wild mane and a strangely wistful smile on her face.

"Hey, Hanna," I call out to her from a distance, and even though I'm sure she notices me, I still wave to her.

She startles for a moment, then quickly raises her arm. "You're back?" As I approach her, I notice a longing shimmer in her eyes. "Have you reconciled?"

"No." I slump my shoulders heavily. "But soon. Hopefully."

"How can I help?" She cuts off one of the lavish golden flower heads with her garden shears and carefully places it in a shallow basket.

"I need to find Noah. Do you know where he is?" Please, she must know. I press my palms together.

She shrugs. "You know Noah."

What does she mean by that? I look at her questioningly.

"He keeps everyone at a distance. And especially since you left…" Her apologetic gaze says more than any words could.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?" I try again, simply because I don't know what else to do.

A sad expression crosses her face. "Yesterday. After days of searching for him in vain. "

"Where was he?" Perhaps at the observatory? He could still be there.

"He didn't say. But I saw that he had his tent with him." She reaches for a sunflower and gently strokes its petals. "He was probably on a multi-day hike."

A hike?

Great.

I'll never find him if he's still in the mountains.

Desperately, I swallow my tears. "What do you think? Where could he be?"

Once again, I only receive a helpless shrug. "I'm sorry. I really wish I could help, but I don't know how."

So that's it? The only option left is the observatory. And if he's not there either, do I have to go back to Noah's house and wait there until he returns? That could take days!

No, I can't bear that.

There must be another solution.

"You can stay here with me if you want." Hanna places her hand on my forearm.

Lost in thought, I shake my head.

"Then I'll at least get you something to drink. Wait here." With these words, she gives me an encouraging pat on the upper arm and turns to walk away.

I’m left alone amid sunflowers, daisies, and those tiny pink flowers that cover the ground.

To think more clearly, I focus on the blades of grass under my sneakers. "Where are you, Noah?" I ask softly, then clear my throat.

My mind has accomplished a lot. It can solve any puzzle, so it must decipher this one too.

"Imagine you were him," I tell myself, taking a step to the side. "You're injured and feel betrayed." Maybe. Of course, I don't know for sure, but it would at least be logical. "You no longer know who you can trust. Then you read this letter."

I nibble on my lower lip. What could my words have triggered in Noah?

"You're shocked. Not sure what to make of what's written there." Yes, that's entirely possible. "So what do you do?"

By now, my head throbs from all the pondering. But my intuition tells me that I should know the answer to this question.

How does someone react when they receive information they're not sure they can believe?

"He would try to find out the truth."

Yes. That's it.

It has to be!

In my letter to Noah, I stated that I am convinced of his innocence. Not because I suspect it but because I know it. And it also says that he himself could come to the same realization if he confronts his trauma.

For a moment, my heartbeat stops. And with it, my breath. The hiking boots were missing from Noah's doorstep!

"He's in the Semmtal Gorge," I exclaim, clasping my hands over my mouth.

My God. What if that's the truth? What if he's really there, facing his past?

I can hardly gather a coherent thought. I only know one thing: I have to go to him.

I set the heavy backpack on the bench, as it will only slow me down unnecessarily. Then I sprint off. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hanna coming out of the house with a tray and glasses .

"I have to go," I quickly shout to her, almost laughing at myself. She's the third person within just two days that I leave standing with these words and a bewildered expression. "I'll keep you posted," I add before darting around the corner toward the street.

I have the taxi drop me off as close as possible to the gorge. Our ride ends at Lazarusweg. With trembling fingers, I pay the taxi driver and exit the car. Then I march up the hiking path to the junction where Noah and I once stood.

Back then, when I had no inkling why he absolutely refused to go into the gorge with me.

I enter the narrow path and follow it between the mountains on my right and the forest on my left. The ground becomes rockier, and I immediately regret wearing only sneakers. I almost twist my ankle. I stumble but manage to catch myself.

"Noah?" I call his name over and over again as I walk along the path, which leads me into an increasingly rugged environment.

Suddenly, a rushing sound reaches my ears. I move toward the noise until an impressive waterfall appears before my eyes. The roaring water plunges into the depths, gathering in a turquoise-colored river that winds its way through the bright limestone cliffs.

Once again, I call for Noah. I turn in all directions, but it seems to be in vain. There's no one else in sight either. Only a few unusually large birds glide above me through the sky. I watch them and notice dark clouds moving in front of the sun.

Will the weather turn bad?

Thoughtfully, I track the path of the clouds. Back there, where they come from, the sky seems to be brightening again. If it rains at all, it will be brief. Not a big deal.

Fully focused on my mission, I step onto the wooden bridge that crosses the stream and leads to a narrow trail. It's barely twenty inches wide, with steep earthy ground right next to it. On the opposite side, there's a rock. I search for ways to hold on and find small ledges that provide some security as I carefully place one foot in front of the other.

I progress slowly by using this method, but at least I'm moving forward. Hopefully, I'll find Noah soon.

As feared, the rain starts. Large drops splash on the top of my head, then on my forehead and shoulders. Within seconds, a downpour drenches my jacket.

I hadn't expected this, but I won't let it stop me. I've come this far, so I can push through to the end.

Nothing can stop me. Not even the fierce rumbling of thunder that makes me flinch.

"Noah?" I shout again with all my strength as I venture deeper into the gorge.

Suddenly, the muddy ground beneath my sneakers gives way. I flail my arms in the air, but I still lose my balance.

My control over my body slips away.

Fractions of a second later, I fall.

I land on the slope with a hard thud. There's nothing to hold on to. I slide down the abyss. Deeper and faster.

Grass, clouds, mountains. Everything whizzes by so rapidly that the images before my eyes merge.

My foot gets caught on something hard. A searing pain shoots through my ankle.

I scream .

Uncontrollably, my head collides with a rock.

"Fuck," I manage to groan before sinking into a dark abyss.