I switch from Bryan to Kenny’s audio call. “Hey, Ken—”
“Theo.” Kenny’s voice is frantic. “Hannah called me and kept asking if I’d seen Ginny. She was on the verge of tears.”
I sit up, rigid. “How drunk is she?”
“Very. She said she was in a car being driven to Bonita Vista.”
I cover my mouth. “What? Why?”
“All I can think is that she’s going to Miramar Beach, where Ginny died. Ripper and I are stoned, man. We can’t drive, but we called an Uber to go after her. We’re freaking out.”
I leap out of my beach chair. “Don’t worry. I’m on my way.”
Chapter 51
Hannah
Saturday, November 9, 2024
The red warning flags signaling rip currents are up at Miramar Beach today, just like they must’ve been the morning Ginny came to surf. The waves are choppy, and no one’s in the water. Only a hand-ful of beachgoers are here braving the November chill, spread out with blankets, their kids shoveling wet sand into buckets. We used to come to this beach all the time as teenagers, Ginny and I—it’s a family beach, close to my parents’ house, with good surf at dawn and dusk. I haven’t been back since the day my parents, Ripper, and Kenny dragged me weeping off the sand.
Coming here is my last resort. The two-hour journey in the back seat of a Toyota Corolla, sweating out tequila, was brutal, but this is the only place left where Ginny might be hiding. I need to find her and make her have it out with me, otherwise—what? I have to accept shewantedto leave me? That I didn’t actually have the relationship with my sister that I thought I did?
The Toyota peels out of the parking lot the second I stumble out of it. The beach is hazy, thanks to whatever alcohol’s still singing in my system, but I find my way ontothe sand, kicking off my shoes as I stagger forward, past the people on blankets. I drop my cell phone into the sand, feeling eyes on me as I unbutton my jeans and peel them off. The ocean foam is icy and tickles my toes. As I make my way into the waves, the salty surf licking my ankles and then my knees, I hear someone yell about rip currents. I ignore them. I already know. This is where Ginny went in and never came back. If the universe is concealing her anywhere, it’s in these oil-black, roiling waves.
I take a deep breath and dive under, rocked for a moment by the shock of the cold and the power of the current, but I persevere, fighting my way forward, using every ounce of the strength I’ve built swimming for a lifetime in the Pacific Ocean. By the time I surface, gasping in lungfuls of air, I’m far from shore. Several of the beachgoers have climbed off their towels and now stand on the shore, shading their eyes as they watch me.
I turn my back on them and yell, as loud as I can: “Ginny, I know you’re out here!” My voice falters. “Come talk to me.”
Nothing. Just dark waves, climbing taller. When they hit, they drag me under with force, like hands wrapped around my ankles. I know what to do in a rip current. I let my body go limp, let the waves tumble me until I break the surface again, sucking in oxygen.
And when I do she’s here,finally, bobbing in the water beside me.
“Ginny,” I gasp.
“Hannah, go back.” Her hair is soaked to her scalp, her skin pale. This is not the Ginny I like to remember. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You kept secrets from me. What did I do wrong?”
She gazes back at me with an inscrutable expression as water drips down her cheeks. “How could I have told you when I knew you’d react like this?”
A wave hits and I choke on salt water, but I manage to keep my face above the waterline. “Of course I am.” My throat is raw. “Why did you want to leave us? Were you unhappy? Did you think I kept you second-best?” I reach for her, but all I can feel is icy water between my fingers. “I’m sorry that everything good happened for us after you died.” It’s hard to stay afloat, but I force the words out. “I know it’s not fair that it happened to me and not you.”
Ginny has to raise her voice over the wind. “Hannah, stop it. You’re asking me these questions like I’m actually Ginny!” A wave strikes and pulls her under. Panicked, I dive for her. The tide grips me and drags.
In the tar-dark water, I can’t tell up from down. I don’t know where to turn. Is this how Ginny felt in those last moments?
To my surprise, my head breaks the surface of the water. Ginny is beside me, looking terrified. Distantly, over the crash of the surf, I think I hear people shouting my name, but all I can see is my sister. “Don’t say things like that.” I cough. “I need you.”
Drops of salt water cling to the lashes of her wide eyes. “This has been going on for too long. I’m a figment of your imagination, Hannah.”
“No—” I groan.
“YouwishI was a ghost, but I’m just your brain, a way for you to make yourself feel less lonely.” Ginny slaps the water. “Admit it before you get yourself killed. I’m not your sister, I’myou.”
Chapter 52
Theo
