Cass burst out laughing. “You’re absolutely terrible.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“Yes, I love you anyway. Maybe because I’m just as flawed. Perfection is highly overrated.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Harmony said.
Harmony’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen—unknown number. She handed the phone to Cass to open the text.
You think you’re safe? Cute Laugh. Too loud for someone who wants to live.
Cass’s color drained as she held the phone up for Harmony to see.
“I’m going to block them,” Cass said.
Harmony shook her head. “I’d rather know what they have to say.” She took the phone back and tucked it away. “Information beats comfort any day of the week.”
“Spoken like a woman who turns trauma into chapters.” Cass watched her for a long moment. “Do you have any guesses who could be doing this? I’m trying not to let it scare me, but I’m worried. I don’t want to die. Life’s good. We could leave the island now and be done with this.”
“I don’t want to leave,” Harmony said. “And, honestly, it could be half the people on this island. They’re all so repressed. That’s why bad things happen. People don’t let themselves live and be free, so they snap. It’s like a balloon—the air has to leak out slowly or it’ll pop.”
“I’m hearing a lot of rumors,” Cass said.
“People love to speculate.”
“Things are being said about you,” Cass warned.
Harmony steered the cart to the side of the road and let it idle. “What are they saying?”
“That you like this. That you like the attention, the power. That you’re writing about death like it’s a play for you to master, and the people on this island are just lines on a page.”
Cass’s voice was gentle, but the words weren’t. People wanted to wound her. They clearly didn’t understand how thick Harmony’s skin was. They’d find out.
Harmony looked over the hill toward the water, smiled, then started driving again. “I’ve never cared much about what people say. I care about who I am. They’re talking about me, but they’re talking about everyone else, too. They suspect me because I watch all of them. They suspect Mary because she’s angry. They look at Zach because he disappears, then always happens to be around during tragedy. They think it’s Tosh because he’s so cold.”
“You left out Torie,” Cass pointed out.
“She suspects herself,” Harmony said with a laugh. “Being a victim is her hobby.”
Cass laughed. “Don’t you miss when the gossip here was about who was sneaking off to Lover’s Cove for some late-night nookie?”
Harmony joined her in laughter. “That’s boring and happens daily.”
They coasted down through Metropole’s little maze, where tourists moved along cluelessly with shopping bags and iced coffees. At the corner, Alba lifted two fingers in a salute before hurrying on, late for work as usual. She kept her job because she was too good to lose.
“Antonio’s Pizza for lunch?” Cass asked.
“After we circle.” Harmony looped slowly along the backroads since they couldn’t drive down the center of Crescent. She let the faces become inventory. Mario heading for the Pier and his second job at the fishing charter. Janie was laughing too hard, hand grazing a new man’s arm. Torie was power walking like the ground had personally offended her. Joe was loading coolers with drinks, getting ready to take his boat out.
Harmony’s phone buzzed again. Same unknown number.
I can hear you when you stop laughing.
The words felt uncomfortably familiar, like something she might have written in a darker draft and decided not to use.
Cass’s teeth clenched together. “Now, I’m annoyed.”
Harmony slid the phone under her thigh, as if warmth could soften the words. “We’ll text back when we know what to say.”
