“They’re coming here?”
“Olivia told them the summer solstice party is on the island. I don’t think we have much time until they get here.” Bo glances up the path to Old Fisherman’s Cottage. “I already told Gigi to lock herself inside.”
“If they find out she’s here, they’ll think you’re protecting her... that you’re one of them.” Hearing him say this—knowing that he’s so certain I couldn’t possibly be a Swan sister—sends sharp pangs straight into my heart. He would defend me if he had to; he would probably bet his life that I am not one of them. And he would be wrong.
“They won’t find her,” I say to assure him, but I have no reason to think they won’t. I can only hope she stays holed up in the cottage. Keeps quiet. And doesn’t do anything stupid. But it’s Aurora, and she’s always taken risks—like drowning two boys in the harbor at once.
“We have to do it now,” Bo says, his temples pulsing. “Before they get here.”
I shake my head out of reflex and grab his arm, holding him in place. “No,” I say.
“Penny, we might not have another chance. Tonight she’ll go back into the ocean; then it’ll be too late.”
“We can’t do it,” I say weakly. “We can’t kill her.”She’s my sister, and even after everything she’s done, I can’t let him take her life.
“We have to. She’s drowned innocent people,” he says like I’ve forgotten. “And she’ll keep doing it unless we stop her.” And then the worst crime, the one that nags at him for revenge. “My brother is dead, Penny. I need to end this.”
The echo of quick footsteps rattles the air, and Bo and I turn at the same time. Rose is scrambling up the walkway, Heath a few paces behind. “There’s still time,” I say in a hush to Bo. “We’ll figure something out before midnight.” But it’s only to stall him.
Rose is out of breath when she reaches us, her cheeks a fevered pink and her hair sticking out from under the hood of her raincoat, ruddy-red curls bursting to be set free. “They’re coming,” she says, the very same two words she told me on the phone, but this time she points out over the water. “They’re piling into boats back at the marina. And there’s a lot of them.”
Heath reaches us and nods at Bo, a quick hello. His dusty blond hair is plastered to his forehead, but he doesn’t make a move to brush it away.
“What are we going to do?” Rose asks, still sucking in air between each word.
“Keep Gigi hidden and act normal, whatever happens.” I look straight at Rose. “And you can’t tell anyone that you brought her here. If they find out you’re responsible, they’ll suspect you of being one of them.”
She nods, but her lips start to tremble, like she’s just now realizing the seriousness of what she’s done by freeing Gigi from the boathouse and bringing her here.
The sun is coasting low over the water, forming dazzling slivers of light that play against the choppy sea, and then I spot them: a parade of boats sputtering across the harbor, making their way to the island.
The boats thump against the dock and some anchor just off shore, casting their lines down to the stony bottom.
And then there are voices. Dozens. Excited and pitched as they file up the boardwalk. Many of them have never been to the island before, and there is a sense of curiosity that permeates the air. And leading the mob, raven-black hair whipping out behind her, is Olivia Greene.
***
They carry cases of cheap beer and bottles of wine stolen from their parents’ cellars. Without permission, they construct a bonfire just outside the old greenhouse, and under Olivia’s command they take over the glassed-in structure, removing potted plants and replacing them with stacks and stacks of beer. Music begins to thump from inside, and as the sun begins to vanish past the horizon, a string of lights illuminates the interior—Christmas lights that someone brought and strung along the eaves. The bonfire sparks and grows larger as more and more people converge on the island.
We watch from Bo’s cottage, keeping our distance, wary of anyone who strays away from the party.
Luckily, Gigi’s cottage is tucked away on the north side of the island, the farthest structure from the main house and the dock and the greenhouse. Someone would have to go investigating to stumble across it. But from Bo’s cottage we can see everything. And as Olivia waves her arms in the air, instructing a group of boys where to place several logs, which were taken from he woodshed, around the bonfire, I can’t handle it anymore.
“What are you doing?” Bo asks when I open the cottage door.
“I have to talk to Olivia.”
Rose stands up. “I can’t stay in here anymore either. I’m going to check on Gigi.”
I want to tell her it’s better if she doesn’t, that she should keep her distance, not draw attention to Gigi’s cottage, but she and Heath are already out the door and hurrying up the path to Old Fisherman’s Cottage.
Bo eyes me, then follows me outside and up to the bonfire.
Olivia spots us as we approach, and she saunters over. “Bo,” she says in a singsong, reaching out to touch him, but I smack her hand away. She rubs it with her other hand and makes a pouty face. “Very protective, aren’t you, Penny?” she says. “And perhaps a little jealous, too.” She winks at Bo, like she’s trying to give me something to really be jealous of. But Bo’s gaze remains stiff and unwavering. He doesn’t find her amusing—not after what she did to him. In fact, he looks like he wants to murder her right here, in front of everyone.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Decorating,” she says with a flourish, sweeping an arm over her head. “I’ve always loved throwing parties—you know this.” I do know, but I don’t acknowledge it.
