She laughed.
They stared, stunned. Torie had been getting worse for a while, but this was beyond anything they’d seen.
“Um, Torie—” Cass began gently.
Harmony reached over and touched her cousin’s arm. “Let her speak,” she said, tone calm but firm. “The truth slips out when people stop performing.”
Torie stopped pacing. She turned to Harmony, the friendliness gone like a blown-out candle.
“You always have something to say, don’t you?” Torie’s voice cut through the night. “Because you’re the observer, the note-taker, the one who never bleeds.” Her voice cracked, her eyes growing wilder. “You think you’re so much better than the rest ofus, Harmony. But you’re not. You’re just better at hiding. But we know how to seek, so you should be scared. You should be very,veryscared.”
Tosh moved toward her slowly. “I think that might be enough, Torie.”
“Enough?” Torie said, laughing again, the sound splintering into something sharp and dangerous. “You don’t get to tell me anymore when it’s enough.” She pointed at him, her hand shaking. “You used me. You made me think that I mattered. You told me I was the only one, the love of your life. You said we’d be together. Then you let that slut Lisa crawl into your bed while it was still warm from my body. Then you brought in another and another. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. I gave youeverything, and you threw it right back in my face. Then you dared call itfriendship.”
“That’s not what happened,” Tosh said evenly. “Torie, you’re not yourself right now. A lot has been happening. Don’t do or say something you can’t take back.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her voice dropped low and bitter. “I’ve finally woken up. I’ve finally found myself again. You kept me down for too long. I put on an act to fit into your world. I don’t need to act anymore,” she hissed.
She took a step closer, eyes blazing.
“I’ve been choking on this lie for months. Everyone thinks I’m crazy, but I see everything. I see how they all look at you. I see how they touch you. I see how you touch them. You humiliated me and didn’t care. You broke me.” She pressed a shaking fist to her chest. “But I’ve been picking up the shattered pieces. I’ve been putting myself back together again . . . any way I possibly can. Maybe it’s tape and glue holding me together, but I’m whole again.”
Cass stood and held out a hand. “Please, come sit with me, Torie. We can talk—”
“Don’t touch me!” Torie screamed, jerking away from the group that seemed to be closing in. Her wineglass slipped from her hand and shattered on the concrete. “Quit looking at me like I’m crazy! You all think I’m just a hysterical woman, don’t you? A side show. Something to watch and clap at.”
Zach took a careful step toward her. “No one thinks that, Torie.”
“Liar!” Her voice shook. “You’re all liars. You all hide. You think I don’t know you, but I do. I know what happens on this island. I have more friends than just you.” She raised her chin. “I know what happened to Lisa, to Heidi, to Candy. I know what happened to Mary’s daughter. I know who the killer is. I’m so much smarter than all of you.”
The words hung in the air like smoke. Somewhere between the wine and the rage, her words had slid into the category of things it was easier not to hear. Torie was clearly slipping out of reach. Had they done it to her . . . or had she been lost long before?
Zach turned, spatula still in his hand. “Say it,” he said, voice low. “Say the name.”
Torie looked at him without answering.
Harmony tried next. “What do you mean, Torie?”
Torie smiled slowly, her red lipstick smeared, her eyes wild and glistening. “You know better than any of them what I mean, Harmony. You’ve been here the whole time, watching, playing us like the puppets you think we are. You judge us, but it should be us judging you. And the verdict?” She laughed, harsh and breathless. “You don’t matter. You’re meaningless. You’ll be forgotten. You’re not one of us. You never were and never will be. You’re nothing! You just want to see the blood so you can describe how it looks when it runs down a body. You don’t care about the lives taken.”
The accusation rolled through the group like thunder.
Tosh stepped between Torie and the others, shielding them from her rage. “This needs to stop now, Torie. You’re drunk, and you’re going to regret this.”
She shook her head. “I’m finally awake,” she screamed. “You’re drunk. All of you are sleeping. You think you’re innocent, but I see blood dripping off of every one of you. Yes, it’s on me too, but at least I admit it.”
Cass retreated to her chair, curling her knees to her chest as she rocked. She couldn’t help Torie, and she was close to melting down herself. This was too much. Zach again reached for Torie, murmuring something low, but she wrenched herself away from him.
Harmony stayed seated, calm, studying Torie as if she were on the brink of collapse. She watched Torie like she was seeing the final act of a play she’d written.
Torie’s chest heaved. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you think you can write me out of this, Harmony? Do you think I’m just another chapter for you to finish?”
Harmony didn’t respond, but she didn’t take her eyes off the woman, either. That was probably wise as Torie was unpredictable.
“You don’t get to end my story.”
She laughed—a tragic, broken sound. “I’ve already ended yours.”
