He flinches, but only for a second. Then his expression hardens into something colder. “No, Calum. I’m not the hero. But neither are you.”
The room falls into an uneasy silence, broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs. Jonathan finally moves, picking up the journal and flipping it open. His eyes scan the pages, his brow furrowing as he reads.
“She mentioned being watched?” he asks after a moment, his voice quieter now.
I nod, my anger simmering beneath the surface. “Yeah. She said she felt like someone was always there. Watching her through the windows, following her.”
Jonathan’s fingers tighten around the journal, his knuckles turning white.
“She told me something similar once. Just before...” He trails off, his throat working as he swallows.
“Before what?”
He hesitates, his gaze flicking to me before returning to the journal. “Before the night she died. She seemed... distant. Like she was somewhere else entirely. When I asked her about it, she just laughed it off. But later, she pulled me aside and saidshe felt like something bad was going to happen. Like someone was waiting for her.”
The words send a chill down my spine, but I force myself to stay composed. “And you didn’t think to tell me this before?”
“What difference would it have made?” he snaps, slamming the journal shut. “She’s gone, Calum. Nothing we say or do will change that.”
“But it might help me understand.” My voice cracks, betraying the weight of my desperation. “Don’t you want to know what really happened to her?”
Jonathan looks at me then, really looks at me, and I see something in his eyes that I can’t quite place. Regret? Fear? Pity? He sighs, setting the journal back on the table.
“I don’t know if we’ll ever understand her,” he says quietly. “She was a mystery to both of us, and maybe that’s how she wanted it.”
I leave Jonathan’s house feeling no closer to answers, only more questions. The journal is heavy in my hand as I walk back to Holiday House, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon mirroring the chaos in my head.
Annabel’s voice echoes in my mind, fragmented and haunting.You and Calum both want me, but neither of you truly understands me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jonathan
The cliffs of Ravensreach Point stretch endlessly before me, jagged teeth biting into a slate-gray sky. The wind howls, wild and unrestrained, whipping at my coat like an impatient child demanding my attention. I dig my hands into my pockets, the cold biting at my fingertips as I approach the edge.
I haven’t been here since that night. Not since she leaned into me, her laughter swept away by the waves crashing below.
Annabel.
Her name is a ghost, spoken only by the wind now, carried into the distance. I close my eyes and let the memory take hold. It always does.
The sun hangs low in the sky, a burnt orange bleeding into deep indigos. Annabel perches on the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling over the abyss like she’s daring the wind to take her. Her hair, jet black in the dying light, whips around her face in a chaotic halo. She doesn’t bother to push it away. She never does.
“You’re going to fall one day,” I say, leaning against the rocks a few feet back.
She turns her head, flashing that smile—the one that’s half mischief, half melancholy.“Maybe I want to.”
I frown, the humor lost on me. “Don’t joke about that.”
Her eyes soften for a moment, but the teasing edge in her voice remains.“You’re worse than Calum, you know that?”
The name feels like a slap, though she says it with her usual flippancy. She looks back out at the horizon, her expression unreadable.“He’d probably tie me to a chair if he thought it would keep me safe. You can’t kiss me anymore, you can’t act like that. Calum and I are together, please respect that.”
“Is that what this is about?” I ask, stepping closer. “Him?”
She shrugs, a motion so delicate it’s almost imperceptible.“He doesn’t mean to be... so much. He just is.”
I sit beside her, careful to keep a respectable distance. The edge of the cliff has always made me nervous, but not her. Never her. She thrives on the thrill. “What do you mean?”
