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Corbin throws his arms up in the air and drops his head back. “Yes, Madden was lying to us when she said she took Fallon for a swim to meet the mermaids. And she must have been lying when she said she didn’t understand why she didn’t come back to the shore when she told her to, as well.”
“Don’t yell at me,” Lara grits out. He isn’t yelling necessarily but his frustration is clear as day. “This is your fault. You know that, don’t you?”
“My fault?” he argues. “I’ve been telling you she needs psychiatric help for years, but you insisted she would grow out of this nonsense. If we had tended to her troubles, our baby would still be alive right now. So now, Lara, this is not my fault. It’s time for you to take some responsibility for your lack of action.”
My foot slips along a pile of pine needles, crackling over a couple twigs. I drop down to my stomach, praying they didn’t hear anything from down there. If it was daylight, they would likely have seen me, but it’s much darker where I am than where they are.
A bolt of light flashes over my head and I panic, knowing they’ve heard me. “We’re done. Let the police continue to search the water with their equipment. It’s been three days, Lara. This is just an inlet to the ocean. There have been six high and low tides since this happened, which means—you know what it means.”
I don’t want to miss anything they’re saying but I need to move so there’s a barrier between us. I scope out the area around me, finding the only place to go is to the side of the shed at the far edge of the cliff, close to the entrance of the woods. I move slowly, trying to snake my way up the hill and across the grass while I try to catch my breath without sounding like I’m hyperventilating.
My phone is buzzing in my back pocket, and I should have figured this would happen at the very worst moment. My handtrembles as I reach for the phone and push my back up against the side of the shed. I lower the brightness on my screen as far as it will go, so I can type out a response to Willa’s message asking if everything is still okay. But before tapping out the second word, my body freezes as if I’ve been hit by an electrical current.
TWENTY-SIX
SUNDAY, JUNE 11TH 9:30 PM
When fresh air splashes against my face after emerging from a darkness I couldn’t have predicted to find here, I gasp for more air before I make a run for my car at the top of the hill. Lara and Corbin are still arguing down by the shore, giving me hope that I can still get out of here without being seen. All the while, I’m trying desperately to sort out the abundance of scattered realizations. I should have known…
My eyes dart around in the dark as I look for the easiest path up the hill but a flash of light wavers over my head.Crap.
“Hey! Who’s up there?” Corbin shouts. Heavy footsteps in the pebbles grow louder and grunts of exertion follow. He’s coming this way.
Panic drives through my veins and I run as fast as I can up onto the street. I can’t let him see my license plate and he has a flashlight. I may not make it out in time. I may have shot myself in the foot.
I can’t swallow against the dry air, making my lungs feel like sandpaper as I reach my car. Never in my life have I pounded so hard on the gas pedal, and I’ve also never been so thankful for rubble flying up around my car as I take off rather than burning rubber against pavement, which could likely be traced back tomy tires. My gaze is locked on the rearview mirror rather than the dark road in front of me, but I need to know he doesn’t manage to catch up to a level where he can shine the light on the back of my car. I turn onto the first street on the left and continue going way too fast for a residential neighborhood. Four more turns down shorter streets and I’m nearing the main road.
I’m not sure when I took my last breath but I’m lightheaded and doing my best to keep myself in check. My hands slip up and down the steering wheel, the sweat acting like grease after crawling along the dirt and grass.
I need to slow down, or I’ll get pulled over. I’ll look guilty. I look guilty. I am guilty of spying. I have evidence on my phone that says I was trespassing on their property to unethically observe their behavior. Only, I assumed whatever I might learn would be from peering into their wide-open back window. I got far more than I could have imagined.
Madden is responsible for all of this, but they wanted to make this look like someone else was to blame. Madden is only a little girl. But hearing Corbin lash into Lara for failing to find her a therapist…it makes me wonder what Corbin was hoping to gain from shouting out such a detrimental confession? Unless he was hoping someonewouldoverhear… The search party would then be looking for a body in the ocean, rather than an abducted child. It could take years to find a body in the ocean, if ever found at all. Maybe Corbin doesn’t want Fallon to be found, but that doesn’t mean she’s dead.
Against my better judgment, I pull out my phone to send a text while I’m driving up the road. I need to talk to Liam. Willa won’t be home for at least another two hours.
Me: Could you come over?
I swing my gaze between the screen of the phone and the road, back and forth like a ping-pong ball, waiting for a response.
Liam: Are you okay?
Me: Yes, but I don’t want to be alone.
Liam: I thought Willa was home with you?
Me: No.
Liam: I’ll be there in twenty. Don’t worry.
I check the rearview mirror again, hearing Liam’s voice play in my head as I recite his text. “Don’t worry.” I don’t think he would be texting so calmly if he knew what I know now.
I pass by my apartment and continue driving straight ahead.
I can’t go home yet.
TWENTY-SEVEN
SUNDAY, JUNE 11TH 10:30 PM
