Becky stared at Britt’s mother, then the gun, then nodded.
“Right,” Becky said. “She shot herself.”
Britt nodded, and then they were both nodding.
“Go,” Britt said.
Becky left and returned a few minutes later with a neighbor who had called 911 from her house. The neighbor said, “Oh my god,” and covered her mouth. Upon seeing this stranger’s distress, Britt vomited.
What had she done?
The sound of sirens came, first far away and then closer and closer before a parade of emergency responders descended upon the mobile home park. Britt and Becky huddled together, hands clasped, waiting to be asked what the hell had happened.
Chapter 16
Sasha
On a Friday afternoon, a month after Daphne died, Sasha boarded the ferry to make the eight-mile voyage across the water to Bainbridge Island. It was June, on the cusp of the official start of summer, but this was Seattle with its ubiquitous cloud cover and damp air. Sasha drove her car into the underbelly of the ship, then took the stairs up to the main deck. She got herself a coffee from the refreshments stand and then went outside to lean against the railing and watch the water pass beneath her.
It was a relaxing trip, and she regretted not having done it with Daphne. They’d never done a sister trip. Sasha expected the rest of her life to be riddled with “we never ...” thoughts. Daphne would have liked the ferry voyage. She’d always been up for some kind of adventure. Sasha whispered into the wind: “Daph, if this is a totally stupid idea, give me a sign.” She waited for something, anything—an orca making an unexpected appearance, someone bumping into her and spilling her coffee. There was nothing, though. She was left to assume that Daphne wasn’t opposed to her harebrained scheme after all.
Sasha figured it wouldn’t be hard to find Angeni Luna’s property. Her Instagram posts alone had given enough clues as to the location. There was mention of having a Christmas tree farm as a neighbor, forexample. How many Christmas tree farms could there possibly be on the island? If she ran into difficulty, she figured the island was small, a place where everyone knew everyone. Any convenience store clerk could probably point her in the general direction.
Her idea was to show up at the property, pretending to sell jewelry. She didn’t want to let on that she knew the property was home to the infamous Angeni Luna. She would be irresistibly innocent and charming. She would say she was new to the island and hope that Angeni welcomed her inside to chat. Angeni Luna seemed like someone who wanted to be seen as hospitable and loving, a warm Mother Teresa goddess figure. In her fantasy of their confrontation, Sasha saw herself inside Angeni’s home, infiltrating the beloved sanctuary.
There were several farms on the island, but only one was specifically referred to as a Christmas tree farm. Sasha found an Airbnb listing near the farm that offered a small, affordable guesthouse, perfect for what she needed. She booked it for the weekend using money she’d squirreled away from tutoring.
The drive from the ferry terminal to her Airbnb was just fifteen minutes. The listing hadn’t done the property justice. It was huge—acres of ponds and pastures butting up against a forested area called Manzanita Park. Sasha drove down a gravel road past the main house to the tiny cottage she would call home for a couple of days.
Before leaving Seattle, she’d bought some cheap turquoise jewelry. Angeni had revealed her love of turquoise in various Instagram posts. She was almost always wearing a teardrop turquoise necklace and a turquoise beaded bracelet. In one of her posts, she talked about how “ancient peoples” believed turquoise had a “profound power to protect” and was “infused with tranquil energy” and representative of “enduring love.” Sasha couldn’t have rolled her eyes harder, but she was grateful for these little nuggets of insight into Angeni’s interests and potential vulnerabilities.
Sasha laid out the jewelry pieces—an assortment of earrings, bracelets, necklaces—in the three tiers of a little cart she’d purchased atWalmart. This would be her jewelry-peddler setup, which she hoped would pique Angeni’s interest.
She figured there was no use wasting time, so she put on a flowy bohemian-style dress that she thought Angeni would appreciate, packed up her car with her jewelry, and headed out to explore the nearby properties, hoping Angeni Luna or one of her people would answer the door at one of them.
Thankfully, there weren’t that many nearby properties. Everyone on the island seemed to own large pieces of land, their homes acres apart from one another. There was so much forest, so many trees, that it was impossible to tell where one property officially ended and another began. Only the mailboxes on the side of the road alerted Sasha to the demarcation of a new residence.
Just beyond the first mailbox was a gravel road that Sasha guessed led to a house. She took the road until a home emerged among the trees. There were no cars out front and no lights on in the house. This wasn’t it. She reversed down the gravel road and continued on the main road until she saw a signpost with an address on it. Next to the signpost was a dirt road. She turned onto it and drove until a home appeared. There were a few cars parked in front of this one and lights on in the house. She had seen enough glimpses of Angeni Luna’s home on Instagram to know that this was it. If there was any doubt in her mind, that vanished when she saw a familiar man coming from the other direction on the dirt road, carrying a bundle of wood. She knew this man to be Matt, one of the guys who lived on the property.
Matt squinted at her, and she was worried he would confront her, ask her what the hell she was doing here. She had to assume Angeni Luna was well known enough to get some unwanted visitors. But as he came closer, he simply waved.
She waved back as she put the car in park.
“Hi there, can I help you?” Matt asked when she stepped out of the car. He was friendly, not at all suspicious or wary.
“Oh, hi,” she said. She felt self-conscious, as if her intentions were written all over her flowy dress. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her body, hiding herself. “I’m, uh, new to the island and wanted to see if anyone was interested in my turquoise jewelry.”
“New, eh? Welcome, then,” he said.
“Thank you.”
His eyes shifted up and down her body. He was assessing her—for what, she didn’t know.
“You know, Angeni may be interested,” he said finally. “She loves turquoise.”
He said her name so easily—Angeni. Just the sound of it, the knowledge that she was somewhere nearby, made Sasha’s heart hammer in her chest.
“Oh, wonderful,” Sasha said. “Thank you.”
