Five

It's nearly ten by the time Sadie and I go inside. Kit offers to help, but she blocks him with a fresh beer and insists he enjoy the fire. After a furtive glance at me, he obliges. It's only then that I realize why Sadie might want me alone: to tell me about her and Kit. Because this day could not possibly get any more awkward, could it?

To my relief, she doesn't mention Kit. We remake the main bed and freshen up the other rooms, and she asks how I'm doing, what it's like being back in the classroom post-pandemic, how exciting is it to be a published author?

"I read your book," she says as we're putting on fresh pillowcases, and I stiffen.

"It's really good," she continues. "No surprise there. You always were the one with the wild imagination."

Now I'm tensing enough that I'm frozen there, pillow in hand.

"Are you writing the next one yet?" she asks.

"It's done and at the publisher."

"Same characters?"

I nod, still wary, still stiff.

She smiles. "Good. That's what I was hoping. It really was good, Laney. I'm not just saying that to be nice. You're an amazing writer, and I'm thrilled for you." She meets my gaze. "Honestly thrilled. I know we've had our… issues, but I remember when we were kids and you used to write stories, and I always pestered you to let me read them. It felt like that. Like getting to read your stories again."

Again, I only nod, not sure what to say to that. After a moment, I say, "You're doing really well, too. Running your own company."

She makes a face. "Sounds more impressive than it is. I wasn't getting anywhere with my last employer, so I struck out on my own to build up my portfolio. Then I'll probably duck back into another company where I can count on steady paychecks and benefits."

"I hear you," I say. "People keep asking when I'll quit teaching to write full-time. Not anytime soon. As much as I love writing, I love steady paychecks and benefits more."

We keep chatting about work and life, and we're finishing when I realize we're short on towels. We head down to the main-level laundry and find a basket of dirty towels with a note on top.

These were not washed! We found them piled on the floor!

I presume the note is from Mrs. Abbas. Does she mean that Nate forgot to finish the laundry? More likely the Abbases showed up early. He may have even mentioned that he hadn't finished the towels, and they promised to do it themselves.

That's happened before, and it doesn't keep guests from complaining in hopes of getting a discount. One might think that anyone able to afford this place wouldn't lie to get a hundred bucks back. That would only mean one does not truly understand the rich. Having grown up with Jayla and Kit, I thought I did. I did not.

I'm shoving the towels into the washer when the back door slaps shut, and Madison calls something I don't catch.

"Time to assign bedrooms," I say to Sadie as I turn toward the door.

She steps into my path. "Before we do, there's something we need to discuss."

Every muscle in me tenses. Here it comes. She's going to tell me that she'll be sharing a room with my ex-husband, and she hopes that's okay, no hard feelings, right?

Except that's not what she says. Not at all. As she talks, I almost wish that were what she says. This is worse. She wants me to heal an old wound, and I understand her point, but if healing Sadie means hurting someone I love more, then I will not.

I tell her it's not the time—obviously.

"Make it the time, Laney. Either you handle this, or I will."

I turn to face her, slow and deliberate. "If you so much as hint to—"

The squeak of sneakers in the hall has us both going still.

"Later," I say. "Don't push me. You know better."

Sadie marches off. I retreat into the laundry area to collect myself. I'm not sure how long I'm there before Madison wheels in.

"What are you doing in here?" she says.

"Washing towels. Everyone's waiting for room assignments, right?"

"Nope, we did that. You and I share your room." She lowers her voice. "Did you talk to Kit?"

"About what?"

"He was looking for you. He came in while you were with Sadie. Then I saw him poking around, trying to find you. It seemed important."

I'm still looking for Kit when I hear Sadie's voice inside a bedroom. She's talking to someone, and she's angry. I can't make out what she's saying, just the tone. I hesitate. If she's speaking to Garrett, I don't want to hear it. If it's Jayla, and there's trouble brewing—

Another voice answers hers, this one calm and instantly recognizable. Kit.

Well, I guess it wasn't me he was looking for after all. I start to turn away.

"Don't do this," Kit is saying, his voice low. "Not now. Laney doesn't deserve it."

"Laney doesn't deserve it? What about what I deserve?"

I turn away quickly and hurry down the stairs.

I take half a sleeping pill before I go to bed. I still spend an hour staring up at the ceiling, the second half of the pill whispering in my ear. Tempting, yes, but if I take it, then my sedated brain will insist there's someone lurking around and what the hell was I thinking taking a full pill and how am I going to protect Madison like that?

When Madison shakes my shoulder, I startle. My fuzzy brain whispers that I'm dreaming, replaying my day on a loop, starting with Madison waking me.

"Laney?" she says. "There's someone outside."

That has me flailing up. When she doesn't say anything else, I hover there, heart hammering, and I expect to look over and see her still asleep. I went to bed worrying about someone lurking about, and now I've dreamed it.

Madison isn't asleep. She's not even in bed.

I scramble up, heart jammed in my throat now, only to see her by the window, the drapes clenched in one hand.

"I thought I heard something," she says.

I relax and start rolling out of bed.

"Then I came to the window," she continues. "And saw someone down there."

I freeze.

Do not freak out. For Madison's sake, do not freak out.

I compose myself and walk to the window.

"You think I dreamed it," she says.

"I—"

"You think I'm traumatized by that asshole peeper and dreaming of him."

"Can I finish, Mads? No, I don't think that at all. I…" I clear my throat. "Earlier today I was sure I saw someone on the bluff. I lied because I decided it was just the blackened tree stump."

"You think I'm seeing things, too."

"No," I say firmly. "I mean that I should have said something because I'm still not sure what I saw."

I peer out the window and give a start, only to realize I'm looking at a bird feeder, its pale top and wooden pole vaguely humanlike in the darkness.

"It wasn't the bird feeder," she says.

"I never said—"

"It wasn't. The person was in the woods. Over there. I saw a person." She shifts. "Or I saw what looked like a person. Something definitely moved. It seemed bigger than any of the animals here and…" She trails off to a mumble. "Maybe I'm wrong. The other night, I did wake up after dreaming there was another peeper at my bedroom window."

"We should wake the others."

When I turn to go, she grabs my arm. "No. Please."

I hesitate.

She looks me in the eye. "Earlier, you didn't admit you saw someone because you were sure it was a stump. You didn't want to look scared and silly. Same here, only it's worse, 'cause I'm a kid, and everyone expects me to be silly and get spooked. Especially that Garrett guy."

I want to tell her not to give a damn what Garrett Emerson thinks of her, but I realize he's only the excuse. She doesn't want to look bad in front of Kit and Jayla, even if they'd never judge her for it.

I glance toward the window. "I'll go check it out."

"What? I mean, yes, someone should, to see if there are footprints or whatever, but I'll go with you. We'll take the gun. Is it up here?"

"No, I left it in the office safe."

We head into the hall. We're halfway down the stairs when the door nearest ours creaks open. I turn to see Jayla, yawning and peering at us.

"Just checking something out," I whisper.

"Coming with," she whispers back, and pads barefoot into the hall. I glance at Madison, who hesitates, and then nods.

When Jayla catches up to us, Madison says, "I heard a noise and thought I saw something. I'm sure I was imagining it, but we're checking it out after we get the gun."

Jayla gives us the thumbs-up.

I have two gun safes. One is in my room, and the other in my office. As I open the office one, Madison tells Jayla that she had a peeper a few weeks ago, which means she could just be paranoid.

"Don't make excuses," Jayla says. "Trust your gut, carry a knife, and don't worry about what anyone thinks."

"You carry a knife?" Madison says.

"Always."

The safe beeps as I finish entering the code. The door pops open and…

It's empty.

The others peer in.

"Let me check the bedroom one," I say. "Hold on."

I slip upstairs and into my room, where the safe is behind a hidden panel. Pop the panel. Enter the code. Door pops open…

No gun.

I go back downstairs, shaking my head. "Kit must have taken it out earlier. He's the only one with the code."

"Get him then," Jayla says.

I turn toward the stairs. Then I remember hearing Sadie in Kit's room.

"Uh, that… could be weird," I say, trying for a smile. "His ex waking him in the middle of the night. Might freak him out."

"Pretty sure Kit wouldn't mind," Jayla says.

I'm about to mention hearing Sadie in there. Then I notice Madison listening intently. I can't say anything that might turn her against Kit. She still hopes we'll reunite, and her parents split because her dad was fooling around, which could make this extra awkward.

"Let's just go," I say. "You have a knife. I'll get a knife. Madison can take a fork. We'll all be fine."