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The thought co closer, has covered his tracks

But al--an irregularity, a minuscule break in the wood It’s so dark beneath the scaffolding I can barely hthouse, a place that has been patched over and nailed shut, as if long ago a hurricane tore out a chunk of the wall and it was only hastily repaired I push The wood gives a quarter of an inch, groaning a little when I lean against it

There’s a door here: carved deliberately out of the wall, then made to look like it has been boarded up But no matter how much I push, it won’t release Could it be locked froainst the nearly invisible sea out when I feel the sharp bite of a nail I suck er into ht The nails aren’t actually nailed into anything, but sih the door and then distorted, bent parallel to the wood Still, it won’t open

I ai backward as the door rebounds, groaning, unhinging like a verticalstirs behind me I whip around as the wind lifts and another wave crashes to the shore, foa between the slick dark rocks I scan the beach but see nothing but the loorass, and the faint lights of Bea a portion of the ocean silver

I slip inside the lighthouse, bending down for a sand-slicked rock I can use to keep the door open This way, at least a little light breaks up the darkness Besides, Nick will need in

If she es to find arette sht switch, and so lamp and barely catch it before it crashes to the floor The lahts up a coiled staircase leading to the lighthouse’s upper levels The room is bare except for a few earettes, and, weirdly, a man’s flattened shoe Dozens of footprints crisscross the roo the heavy layer of sawdust and plaster Ants swar the laht, it looks like a serpent Then I start to climb

The red sofa has been removed from the room at the top of the stairs Even before I find another laed across the room--tracks are visible in the dust--and worked, somehon the staircase

But the lahts on a ed with stains fro in the corner, its grille choked with dust, and cinder blocks and plywood are stacked just to the left of the stairs, probably from the planned renovations that never irl’s bra--yellow, faded, with bumblebees patterned across the cups

I stand for a second in the center of the rooet here? How did any of us get here?

It’s all over now: the lying, the struggling, the sneaking around I reet hohs by the time we rounded the final corner, the desire not just to end but to give up, to stop pedaling, to letnow--not the triu

But there’s onefor so to tie Andre to Madeline Snow I’ to find The truth will out That phrase keeps running through my head No It’s the truth will set you free Blood will out

Blood

Near one wall is a dark stain, htly nauseous The stain is about the size of a child’s pal absorbed into the plank floors Impossible to tell how old--or new--it is

Downstairs, the door bangs shut I stand up quickly,into my throat Someone’s here Nick wouldn’t have sla carefully, quietly

There’s only one place to hide: behind the stack of plank wood and cinder blocks piled together at the head of the stairs Moving as quietly as I can, wincing whenever the floor creaks beneath me, I slip into the narrow, dark space between the construction s Ito hear sounds fro Not a whisper, creak, or breath I count to thirty and then back down to zero Finally I shuffle out of ed the rock frolied beneath one of the pieces of plywood I work it free with ers

The world shrinks down to a narrow point, to a space no wider than a child’s outstretched hand

It’s Madeline Snow’s charm bracelet--the one we so carefully combed the beach for, back when I joined up with the search party Her favorite char her bracelet I edge out into the open

"What the fuck?"

Andre’s voice takes me completely by surprise I haven’t heard hi the banister hite knuckles, his face distorted, e