Eleven

"Laney?" Jayla calls.

"It's—it's Nate," I manage to say.

Her voice drops. "I guessed that. I'm sorry. Just stay where you are. I'm coming down."

I squeeze back tears. "Bring the others. I don't want you getting stuck down here."

"I'm not leaving you—"

"I've got it."

"Goddamn you. Stop that."

Her voice cracks, but I'm already nudging Nate's body off mine. I move him, as best I can, to the side, propped against the wall. His arm hangs to his side, bone jutting—

Don't look at it.

Don't think about it.

"He's off me," I say. "Please go get the others."

"Stay right there."

I bite back a laugh, because if it escapes, I'll start sobbing hysterically. "Not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry, Laney. I never met Nate, but Kit said he was a good guy. Kit was glad you had him to take care of the place."

I nod, fresh tears welling.

"I'll get Kit."

Her footsteps start to recede, when I remember myself and call, "Garrett. Tell Kit to stay with Madison while you bring Garrett."

"Yeah, no. I'll stay with the kid."

She leaves the flashlight on the edge with the beam shining for me. Then her feet tap over the rock as she takes off.

I shift, adjusting as best I can. Rock jabs into my hip, and there's nothing I can do about that. I'll be fine.

Nate…

"I'm so sorry," I say. "If this happened because of me—" I inhale sharply. "It did happen because of me. I brushed off what someone was doing here…" My vision blurs with tears. "I am so sorry. So, so—"

Nate's arm twitches. I fall back, hitting the rock hard, my trapped leg shrieking at the sudden jolt.

Did his arm really just move?

He's not alive. There is absolutely no way he's alive.

What if he is? What if that smell is his arm, the torn flesh rotting. What if he's comatose—

With his eyes open?

Is that impossible? No, it's not.

I force myself to creep toward him, look past that arm and see Nate, the young man I knew. If there is any chance he's alive…

Are you listening to yourself, Laney? His hand has been sawed off.Sawed off. If that happened, he'd bleed out. There is no way he's alive. You're crying, and it's night. Your vision is swimming—

His arm twitches again. I stare at it, my heart slamming against my ribs. Then, very carefully, I reach out and press my fingers to his chest. The cold creeps through his T-shirt, and no heartbeat pulses.

Because he's dead, Laney.

I swallow hard. There's another explanation for what I saw. A mouse or bug burrowing through the dirt, making his arm move.

I find a stick that's blown in the crevice. Using it, I lift Nate's arm.

Holding his arm away from the wall, I peer under it. Rock. That's all I see. Solid rock. Nothing could have—

The stick vibrates in my hand, and I fall back with a yelp. Nate's arm drops, thumping against the rock wall. His body starts to slide my way, and I scramble back with a shriek as pain rips down my trapped leg.

"Laney!" a man's voice calls, shoes thumping overhead.

I want that to be Kit. God, how I want it to be Kit, even when I can tell it's not.

Garrett's face appears over the edge. He sees Nate and blanches.

"Shit," he whispers. Then his hands fly up. "Stay calm."

"I am calm," I snap. "I slipped, and my fucking leg felt like it was being ripped off, okay?"

"Can you move it?"

"No, because it's trapped."

I swallow. Don't do this. It won't help. Nate is dead, and whatever we thought was happening here, it is so much worse.

Focus on Madison and getting her into the house, where it's safe.

Safe?Trapped on an island in the middle of Lake Superior?

"It's Nate," I say, as calmly as I can. "Someone really did kill him, and they might still be on the island. Can you please make sure Kit or Jayla gets Madison into the house?"

"Jayla went to find them. Let me get you out, and we'll all head inside." His eyes meet mine. "If Madison comes here, I'll make sure she doesn't see him."

"Thank you."

"Now let me get you out of there."

He climbs down until he's looming over me, and all I see is him there, and I can't breathe. My chest seizes, panic filling me, raw animal panic. The sight of him. The smell of him.

Breathe. Remember Madison. Breathe.

Inside, I am whirling and gibbering in panic. Garrett doesn't notice anything amiss. Shocking, really. So shocking.

That thought calms me enough to catch my breath as he works on freeing my leg. It hurts like hell, but at least that's a distraction. When it's finally free, I push to my feet, balancing myself in the crevice. Garrett reaches to steady me, and it takes all my willpower not to shove him away.

"I've got it," I say.

"Laney?"

Kit's face appears over the edge. He sees Nate, and grief ripples across his face. Then he meets my gaze and reaches down. He doesn't leap into the crevice to rescue me. I know that's supposed to be the romantic move, but this is what has always done it for me. A helping hand extended, should I need it, while acknowledging that I might not.

I start to climb. Garrett's hands close over my hips. He's only bracing me, but the look on my face has Kit's eyes hardening, his mouth opening to say something.

"I'm okay," I say, and he understands what I mean and nods, though his expression stays hard.

As soon as I'm high enough, Kit hauls me out. He tries to get me to sit so he can check my leg, but I slip from his grasp.

"Nate," I say. "Please. If we can get him out…"

Garrett looks at Kit. Kit tenses, ready to argue that yes, we need to get Nate out.

I shake my head. "It's a crime scene, and I've messed it up enough. I wasn't thinking."

Kit takes my hand. I hesitate, and my brain issues the command to pull away, but not only doesn't my traitorous body follow through, it falls against him when he tugs me into a hug. I bury my face in his shirt.

In a heartbeat, two years disappear, and I'm here, in this spot, scouting it before building begins. Kit's hugging me as I break down in gibbering fear that I will lose my sister. A few months later, she'll be in remission, and he'll take me away for the weekend to celebrate, and we'll spend most of it in bed, ordering takeout and drinking champagne and making love as if we'd been the ones granted a hall pass by Death. Then the cancer will return, and he won't be there. I'll get a couple "I'm here if you need me" texts that feel obligatory.

I need you, Kit. I needed you then, and I need you now, but I can't fall into the trap of needing you again.

I pull away and wipe my eyes. Then I start toward the house. When my leg wobbles, Kit puts out his elbow and I pretend not to see it.

We walk in silence, with Garrett bringing up the rear. A sharp sound from the east makes me jump, but it's only the whistle of the wind. That prods a memory, sliding past, and I make a half-hearted attempt to catch it, but when it evaporates, I don't give chase.

We reach the fire pit, and I stop short. The house rises in front of us, a massive wall of unrelieved darkness.

"Madison and Jayla," I whisper. "Didn't they come—"

A light flickers deep inside the house, and I exhale. Kit opens the door, ushers us in, and locks it behind him. We continue on to find Jayla and Madison sitting on the floor, behind the couch, Madison leaning against Jayla. A lantern rests at their side.

Seeing me, Madison scrambles up, only to glance over her shoulder, as if she's revealed herself to a killer beyond that bank of windows. I lower myself to the floor and sit with my back against the sofa, as if it's a bunker of sandbags.

"I didn't tell her," Jayla says.

"I knew." Madison's voice cracks as she snuggles in beside me.

I put my arm around her shoulders and scoot closer.

"I know you all thought the hand wasn't his," Madison says.

"We wanted to think that," I say.

"I wanted to, too, but after a while, I couldn't. I kept thinking what if you guys were wrong, what if someone did really kill him, and that was his hand and—"

She gulps, and I hug her. Kit crouches in front of me and motions at my leg. I pull up the leg of my sweatpants. My calf is scraped, and it'll bruise, but it's fine.

Compared to Nate, I'm completely fine.

"Did you bring him back?" Madison asks.

"We can't," I say.

She twists. "What?"

"I'll be the asshole here," Garrett says, "since you already think I am, kiddo. It's a crime scene. We can't mess up the evidence more than we accidentally did."

Madison is quiet for a moment. Then she nods, her voice small when she says, "You're right."

"He is," Jayla says. "As soon as we're back on shore, Garrett will contact the police. They'll take it from there, and we'll make sure Nate is treated right. A proper investigation and a proper burial."

"So, do we wait for Sadie?" Madison says. "Stay here until she sends someone for us?"

"She will send someone," Garrett says. "But I'm not sure I want to wait for that. She'll be embarrassed that she took off with the boat, so she'll send someone else, which means waiting for business hours."

"She has no reason to think we need rescue," I say. "We'd spent the evening drinking beer and toasting marshmallows. There's no rush to come get us."

"It'll be dawn soon," Garrett says. "What are our options? You've got a canoe, right?"

I nod. "A canoe, kayak, and stand-up paddleboard."

"A double kayak? Or can two people fit on the paddleboard?"

I shake my head. "The paddleboard is for one, and it's not made for crossing Lake Superior. The kayak's a single, and I wouldn't cross on it either."

"I could handle it," Garrett says.

"It's Lake Superior," Madison says.

Garrett's brow furrows, as if that was a non sequitur.

"One of the construction guys fell in and got pulled under," she says. "He nearly drowned. It's nasty and it's deep. Over a thousand feet deep. There are hundred-year-old wrecks with preserved bodies still on board."

"Laney and Madison are right," Kit says. "No one is heading for shore on the kayak or paddleboard. Laney and I can take the canoe." He looks at me. "Is that okay?"

"I'll go with you," Garrett says.

"Kit and I have done it before," I say. "That wind's picking up, and the sooner we get out, the better. It's a tough enough trek in calm water."

"You'll wear life vests?" Jayla says.

"They always do," Madison says. "Even when I'm not here."

"Safety first," I quip.

"Have I mentioned how cold the lake is?" Madison says. "The only thing life vests are going to do is keep your body afloat for the rescuers."

I rumple her hair. "Well, that's good, because while it'd be cool to frighten the crap out of divers a century from now, proving me legally dead would be a real pain in the ass. You'd be forty before you got your college funds."

"Can we not talk about dying out there?" Jayla says, and when I glance over, her face is serious.

I check my watch. "Dawn is in an hour. There's no chance of getting sleep, but Kit and I should have something to eat. It's going to be a long paddle."