Brooke pushes Kristie over the edge.
She drops into the lake with a heavy splash.
The water swallows her quickly. Her body bobs once, then starts to go under. The tape and the zip ties do exactly what Brooke says they'll do. Kristie’s head disappears, and the water closes over her.
The lake goes quiet again.
Brooke stands at the edge of the boat, staring at the dark surface. Her shoulders are still. Her hands don’t shake.
I watch the water for any sign of her. I don’t see anything. I don’t hear anything except the small lap of water against the boat.
Beau starts the engine.
The boat rumbles back to life, and we begin to move.
Brooke stays looking at the spot where Kristie went under, like she is making sure she doesn’t come back up.
I step closer to Brooke and slide my hand into hers and squeeze once.
Beau steers us back to shore.
I don’t feel anything for Kristie. I only feel for Brooke. I feel rage for what they did to her. Now I feel the simple satisfaction of seeing her get revenge.
Chapter 43
Seth
Takeout containers crowd the table, grease bleeding through the bottoms and soy sauce staining the wood. Beer bottles sweat onto coasters nobody bothers to use. The fireplace crackles low, filling the quiet spaces between conversations.
Open cartons sit between us, lo mein tangled in glossy noodles, fried rice packed tight with egg and green onion, half-crushed dumplings leaking oil into the corners, and a container of orange chicken picked apart between bites.
Steam curls out of the carton in my hands while I watch it drift into the air. For a moment I thought about the lake. About dark water closing over Kristie’s head while her lungs fight for air.
The missing Kristie Talbert is already trending online.
Beau lifts his beer with a grin.
“Welp, her political career went under pretty quickly.”
Travis barks out a laugh. “You are absolutely going to hell.”
Beau takes a drink without breaking eye contact. “Have you seen the current state of the world? We’re already there.”
Brooke leans back in her chair, tucking one leg beneath her. Luna is sprawled across her lap, front paws planted against Brooke’s stomach as she stretches her head toward the open carton. Brooke keeps one hand loosely around Luna, absentmindedly holding her back from shoving her face into noodles. She smiles, and it's not the polite version she uses in public. It's the real one.
Travis raises his bottle next. “They’re really gonna need campaign reform.”
“Shut up,” Brooke laughs, shifting her carton slightly out of Luna’s reach as a black paw reaches for a dangling noodle.
Luna tries again, stretching higher, claws catching lightly in Brooke’s sweater, and Brooke nudges her back without even looking down.
Beau reaches across the table and steals the last dumpling from the carton without asking.
“Hey,” Travis snaps.
“Too slow,” Beau replies.
“You always eat the last piece.”
