Twenty

I take the long way back to the house. Kit knows I'm taking the long way and says nothing. This is the direction Sadie ran. I keep telling myself we're bound to see her. How much farther can she go on that leg? Yet I don't catch so much as a glimpse of that pale shirt or her blond hair, even when the downpour subsides.

"Storm's letting up," Kit says beside me. We can talk in normal voices now, and the sun filters through gray clouds overhead. "We'll get Sadie, and we'll figure it out."

Figure it out how? Hope that someone decides to head out for an autumn boat ride while storm clouds still threaten?

I don't think I've ever comprehended what would happen if I were stranded on the island. All those times Kit tried to buy me a sat phone, even he hadn't pushed too hard. After all, we had a motorboat and canoe, and even a kayak could do in a pinch, Plus, I never came up without letting multiple people know where I'd be and for how long. Then there was Nate, who always "popped by" if I visited for more than a few days.

"Did you ask Nate to check on me?" I say.

The question startles Kit, but after he recovers, he shrugs. "I wish I could take credit, but it was his idea. I knew you'd want to be able to write undisturbed, but when he suggested it, I agreed."

"And paid him."

It's not a question. Kit knew how to strike that perfect balance, like he had with those anonymous gifts while Anna was sick. Nate would have volunteered, and to assume he wanted pay would be insulting. Yet Kit would find a way to compensate him.

"I…" He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I opened a college fund for him. His aunt helped. When he was ready to go back to school, she'd have told him it was some kind of post-pandemic scholarship fund for students experiencing hardship."

His hands dig deeper into his pockets, shoulders rising as he must think the same thing I do. Nate won't need that fund now. The money will go to his funeral instead.

"His aunt has a couple of kids still in high school," Kit says. "I'll make sure they're covered if they want to go to college."

I loop my arm through his and say nothing. Kit isn't looking for virtue points. That'd be easy to do in his position. Sprinkle money here and there and point neon arrows at it. He follows his parents' example and just does it, and if he's concerned it'll draw attention to him as the benefactor, he slides it under the radar and hopes the connection won't be made. Genuinely hopes it won't be made.

"Earlier, I asked when Sadie last contacted you," he says. "That wasn't a random question."

"Okay."

"You said it was after we got married."

"Right."

"Did you—?" He stops short to look off to the left, but when I glance over, there's nothing there, and he keeps walking.

"Did I what?" I ask when he doesn't continue.

He shakes his head. "I know you didn't, and I should have known, but I was never quite certain about the state of things between you two."

"Between me and Sadie?"

"I know what happened and that you weren't good friends after that, but you weren't sworn enemies either. So it made sense, at the time, that you might have said it. In passing. A confession to an old friend who knew… all the complications."

"You do realize you're not making any sense, right?"

"I'm fumbling."

"I see that," I say.

"Fumbling because I'm looking back, wondering how I could have been so stupid, and realizing that you're going to wonder the same thing, which does not help my case at all."

"Okay. I'm going out on a limb and guessing Sadie said something to you. She claimed I said something. Confessed it."

He doesn't answer, which is an answer.

I soften my voice. "Was it about me being bi?"

"What?" He looks over sharply. "Uh, no, Laney. I've known that since I was, like, twelve."

"I don't mean that I confessed to be bi. That's hardly a secret. But did she say…" I take a deep breath. "I know we talked about it, in the early days. About what it meant for me being married to a man. Would I be missing something? Would I want—need—an open marriage? I said no, and I meant it. If I married a woman, I'd have felt the same. It's about the person for me. Did Sadie say I confessed that I missed women? That it wasn't enough, being with you?"

He shakes his head. "I'd have known that was bullshit. If you felt that way, you'd have talked to me, and you wouldn't be confessing it to her."

"Okay, so what did I supposedly confess?"

"It was about… Well, not about Garrett but—"

He keeps talking. I don't hear it over the blood pounding in my ears.

A confession. About Garrett. Something Kit shouldn't have believed, but he did. A lie Sadie told.

A lie about the fact that I'd confessed. But a lie she believed to be true.

And so had Kit. At least for a while.

No. Oh God, please no.

When Kit left me, he made excuses. So many excuses, most of them mumbled and half intelligible, and maybe it seems like I should have demanded answers, but I'd been too hurt to chase them. He didn't want me. That was all that mattered. He'd changed his mind and no longer wanted to be with me.

When the pain faded to a dull ache, when my pride slunk back, I thought about asking for that answer. We were divorced, so it couldn't sound as if I was begging him to come back.

I had considered the possibility there was more to it than falling out of love. The way he'd left, the way he'd thrown Hemlock Island in my lap and tried to heap more gifts on it, I'd seen guilt.

What if he'd had a pandemic fling? Restrictions had eased, and we'd been cooped up together so long, and yes, I hadn't minded the closeness, but maybe he did, and he had an affair. Hell, maybe a one-night stand.

This had been the real reason I'd wished I'd insisted on an answer. If he had a fling, we could have worked it out. Extenuating circumstances—quickie marriage, pandemic anxiety—would have made me a whole lot more forgiving than I might otherwise be.

But what if that wasn't the answer? What if this was it? If Sadie said I confessed that I'd lied about Garrett… and Kit—my husband—believed her?

"Laney?"

I see his mouth moving. He's in front of me, holding my arms, his face swirling with panic and worry. But it's not his voice I'm hearing.

"Laney!"

Madison? Why is Madison—?

Shit! Madison has been out here the whole time. In the chaos, I'd been thinking she was in the house, safe. I'd forgotten she's with Jayla looking for Sadie… who is out of her mind and dangerous.

"Madison!" I whirl, searching for her.

"Right here." Madison appears from behind rocks. "I thought I heard your voices. Did you find her?"

Jayla rounds the rocks. "The only thing we found was rain." She plucks at her drenched shirt. "I feel like I went for a swim, and not a nice one." She shivers. "I was trying to persuade the kid to get inside and change into something dry before we catch pneumonia."

"That's not how you catch pneumonia," Madison says. "Or a cold. We just spent two years in pandemic hell, and you still don't know how viruses spread?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know it. I was just hoping you didn't. It's a good excuse for getting inside."

"We saw Sadie," I say.

They both turn to stare at me.

"Fuck," Jayla says. "So I was right. She's behind this bullshit and hiding on the island."

I shake my head and glance at Kit, but he seems to be only half listening as he looks out over the landscape.

"She's…" I measure my words, aware of Madison soaking them in. "Hurt. Badly hurt. I think she might have been on the boat."

"When it exploded?" Madison says.

"Maybe she jumped off before it did. Heard a noise or spotted the bomb. We noticed her suitcase was in the water, and when we saw her, she was drenched even before the rain started."

"You couldn't get to her," Madison says.

"I…" Careful. So careful. "We couldn't call to her with the wind, and so we chased her."

"Chased her?" Jayla frowns. "She ran away?"

Kit snaps back from wherever his mind had been. "She's badly hurt. A blow to the head or concussive shock from the bomb. At first we thought she didn't recognize us, but then she attacked Laney, and she accused me of being the one who hurt her."

"What?" Madison says.

"She's really confused. But she's also—"

"What the hell is going on?" Garrett's voice booms as we turn to see him striding from the direction of the house. "Are you searching for my sister or hanging out chatting?"

"No, asshole," Madison says. "We're talking to Kit and Laney, who saw your sister, and we're getting the story so we can help her."

Garrett stops short and swivels on me. "You saw my sister?"

I nod. "She's out here, and she's hurt and confused."

"And again, my fucking question, louder now. You are standing around chitchatting after you found my sister?"

"What the hell is your problem?" Madison snaps.

I step between them and lower my voice to address Madison. "His sister is missing, and he's panicked. Same as I would be if you were missing."

Cut him some slack.That's what my tone says, and Jayla's lips tighten at that, but she doesn't interfere. Yes, in this instance, we need to cut Garrett slack. Just not as much as he demands.

I turn to Garrett and keep my voice calm. "We are discussing it because she's not in her right mind."

"She attacked Laney and Kit," Madison cuts in.

"The point," Kit says, "is that Sadie's dangerous. That's not her fault, but it doesn't change the fact she is. We were making sure Madison and Jayla knew that before they went running after her, as they understandably would want to."

"Would they?" Garrett says. "Does anyone here give a shit besides me?"

"Yes," I say firmly. "I think we've proved that. Now, if we can divide into groups, we'll go after her."

"Uh, Laney?" Madison says. "Is that blood dripping down your back?"

"It is," Kit says. "And that saves me from being the one who brings it up. You need that looked at."

I start to protest.

"I also don't think Madison should be out here," Kit says. "Not Laney or Madison."

"Why not me?" Madison asks.

"He's right," Garrett cuts in. "You need to go inside, kiddo. Sadie would never hurt you in her right mind, but we can't take a chance she'll mistake you for your, uh, aunt." He jabs his index finger at Kit. "You come with me."

"I was going to check Laney's shoulder. Then I can—"

"Jayla will do it. Or the kid can do it, if Jayla wants to come with us. But if Sadie's hurt and she's not coming back willingly, I'm going to need help."

Jayla takes my arm. "I'll look after Laney. Mads will help. You guys hunt for Sadie. You have one hour. Then we need a check-in."