Chapter 18

It's dark when the voices, low and muffled, slice through the wilderness.

Alexandra and I click off our lights, leaving only the moonlight to guide our steps as we tiptoe into the trees for cover.

We watch the hazy shapes until the sun peeks out from behind a distant crag to illuminate Jacey and Noah at the guardrail. Jacey's arm is stretched over the top bar, like she's pointing to something beyond the railing. Something down the face of the cliff. But we're too far away to make out her words.

I motion for Alexandra to follow me through the spindly branches to get closer. A twig snaps beneath my foot, loud as a gunshot, and Alexandra flinches. I shut my eyes, ducking my head.

When I look, Noah and Jacey are still peering down over the side of the cliff. The sun continues to rise, slowly painting greenery onto the dark canvas of the mountainside. I take a few more cautious steps until Jacey's voice reaches my ears with sudden clarity. "It could be evidence."

Evidence . Something she wants to cover up so badly, she hiked all the way out here in the middle of the night.

"Oh, I see it now," Noah says, leaning over the top rail to get a better view. "What is that?"

"I don't know, but I might be able to reach it." Jacey stretches her neck out for another moment, and then ducks beneath the bars.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on," Noah says, clutching her wrist. "We should probably be getting back. You taking a spill down the mountainside right now wouldn't be very timely for a couple of reasons. We'll tell the cops to scour the area."

Tell the cops? So Noah doesn't know what she's up to. Jacey's dragging him along on her criminally motivated ride. He thinks she's trying to help when she's actually trying to bury whatever's down there.

"We can't rely on the cops," she says. "Grab my ankles." She inches out onto the ledge. "I think I can get to it without your help, if you're going to act so worried."

"You got me, I'm worried."

But she isn't listening. Instead, she's scooting over the sharp rocks that extend out over the slope. "Wait, Jace."

"I'll be fine, I promise." She hooks the toes of her sneakers over the bottom rail, and Noah clasps his hands around her ankles as she flattens her body and reaches.

"Please be careful." The frazzled edge to Noah's words slashes through the cold morning air.

Jacey keeps wriggling until she's dangling over the cliff. My heart thumps. Alexandra's hand clamps on to the back of my arm, her nails digging through my jacket. "Savannah," she hisses, "we should—"

I shake her off me, training my gaze on the cliff.

"Jacey," Noah begs now, "forget it. It's probably just trash some hiker tossed over the edge." But she keeps reaching.

Noah manages only a "Wai—" as her ankle slides from his grip.