“This is home. I have nowhere else to go,” he said.
He walked out.
Everyone was ready to leave the airport, but the sergeant was taking his time with interviews. He clearly wanted to make them uncomfortable.
Hours passed as interviews stacked like dominoes.
Accusations.
Defensiveness.
Fear.
Anger.
No one had a solid alibi.
Everyone had a motive.
Everyone looked guilty through someone else’s eyes.
Harmony drifted over to Zach, who’d been keeping his distance from everyone. His arms were folded, his hair blowninto an unruly mess, and his clothes wrinkled. She put her hand on his arm.
“How are you holding up?”
“Terribly,” he said. “I hate that I keep finding them.”
“You’re everywhere that matters,” Harmony said. “Of course it’s you finding them.”
“Maybe I should never leave my house.” He paused and rubbed his face. “I’m scared it’s one of us, one of our group.”
She gave a sad smile. “It clearly is.”
He looked at her, searching. “You sound so sure.”
“The arrangement of the bodies has been . . . intimate,” she said. “It’s calculated. Someone wants the island to witness their story.”
“Then we’re simply puppets in their play.”
“Yes, we are.”
Cass stepped closer. “Speak for yourselves. I refuse to star in their trauma.”
Torie stormed toward them. “How long is this going to take?”
“All day,” Evans called out.
They turned to look at him as Durante walked up.
“More likely, all week,” Durante added.
“Are you going to post guards at all exit points?” Mary questioned.
“If that’s what it takes,” Durante said, his voice serious.
Zach stiffened as Durante addressed him. “Zach. Efrain. We’re not done.”
“I’ve told you everything.”
