In an instant, Paul has the gun in hand and thrusts it at Freya’s temple. “Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t manipulate me. It’s like earlier, when you told me you’d go back to New York. You promised. But I could tell after the others left that you were backtracking and finding an excuse to stay. You belong in New York.Webelong in New York, without Duncan Gilcrest. And I’ll keep watching out for you, no matter what it takes. I’ve watched out for you since the first time I saw you, since the first time I slipped into the cabin at Burkehaven while you slept.”
The corners of Freya’s mouth twitch up in recognition of a long-standing mystery finally solved, I imagine, though the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Paul presses the gun to her forehead and releases the safety. Freya winces. “No, no,” she says. “I’m not laughing. I’m not. And come on, Paul, put that thing down. You could pull the trigger by accident. Then where would you be?”
Paul keeps the gun in place, the muscles along his arm taut.
“I’m impressed,” Freya says. “That’s all. Because I should have followed the evidence like Gina would have. You were the one who stole my necklace when I stayed at Burkehaven, not Isaac Haviland. You were the one who would sneak into my room in the cabin. All this time, all these years, your goal was to narrow my world, to get me to retreat and depend on you. I stopped working. I stopped seeing friends. There I was in the busiest city in the world, hiding out in my co-op, and the only person I saw regularly was my manager. You. And that was what you wanted. But I took a chance on a stupid true-crime show, one I was so embarrassed by that I kept it from you. I auditioned, and I got the role, but even though the show didn’t get picked up, I met Duncan, and I told you I wanted to give New Hampshire a chance. I told you it might be time to turn a new page.”
Paul lowers the gun. “You said it would be like the old days,” he says, his voice breaking, “but it wouldn’t have been. I’d have been alone again.”
My heart almost goes out to him, and maybe it would if I weren’t on a mountaintop facing down a gun-wielding maniac who’s lied to me my whole life. Somehow, at some point, Paul convinced himself that Freya was the key to being loved, but he couldn’t get what he wanted without controlling her.
“The stalking wasn’t about scaring mefromNew York,” Freya says. “It was about keeping me there, where you could have me to yourself. You were the one who kept saying Duncan wasn’t prioritizing me, that he loved Nicole.”
“He’d never have left her,” Paul says.
“But he did leave Nicole. He just didn’t hate her, which is what he kept trying to tell me. He loves his kids, and so does she, so they prioritize their family, and they make it work.”
“Helovedhis kids,” Paul says. “He doesn’t love anyone anymore. Not even you.”
“And I should have listened to him,” Freya says, her voice growing cold. “Instead, I listened to my old friend. Then that old friend burned down my house. No house. No boyfriend. No reason to stay in Hero. You and I, we could go back to the way things were, and you wouldn’t be by yourself.”
“They were good the way they were,” Paul says. “They still can be.”
Out in the night, Ginger howls.
Paul moves toward the cabin door. “I should have shot that damn dog when I had a chance,” he says.
“Leave her, Paul,” Freya says, quickly. “She’s tied up and can’t get to you, and I heard sirens. The police must be at the farmhouse by now. Paul, Duncan would have called for backup.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Tell me, Paul, what am I doing?”
“You’re playing Gina Shock. You’re mirroring my words. You’re saying my name and trying to connect to me. But you don’t need to do that. We’ve been connected for as long as we’ve known each other, since the first time I saw you sing at Burkehaven.”
“I could sing for you now,” Freya says. “What would you want to hear?”
Paul shakes his head. “Stop. You don’t care about any of this. And you can play Gina as much as you want, but I know who you are. I know you’re scared out of your mind.”
“I am scared. I’m terrified.”
“That’s better,” Paul says. “Why? Tell me.”
“Because I care about you. You’ve been a friend when I’ve needed one. And now, I don’t know how we’ll get out of this without someone else getting hurt.”
“I don’t know if wearegetting out of this,” Paul says, retrieving a knife from the table and cutting Freya’s legs free from the chair.
I duck beneath the window. Paul has no intention of leaving this mountaintop, I imagine, and he won’t let Freya leave, either. I don’t have time to wait for Seton to ride to the rescue. Somehow, Freya and I need to get out of this on our own.
“Move,” Paul says. “And don’t try anything.”
Light from the lamp spills into the night as they make their way across the cabin. Freya glances toward me as she steps outside, her pale face betraying her fear.
I weigh the stone in my hand.
“Keep going,” Paul says. “To the overlook.”
“We can make it to my truck and leave,” Freya says. “People think I’m on my way to New York.”
