She flashed me a wry smile, like we were both in on an inside joke. "I know it's silly. Thank you for humoring me. Now we can go."
I followed her through the great room to the patio doors and stepped onto the back patio.
The fog swallowed the world. The yard, the line of ferns along the fence, the path that led toward the bluff—everything transformed into vague, smeared outlines. Sound was both muffled and amplified, the waves a rhythmic murmur, like a ghost whispering in my ear.
We crossed the flagstone patio and walked across the dew-stippled lawn toward the bluff. Rowan sauntered ahead, her shoulders squared. I followed three paces behind, one hand in my hoodie pocket, maintaining enough distance to run if I needed to.
There were no witnesses. No one would hear a scream over the waves. A dog barked somewhere, the sound flat and directionless. Then a distant scraping sound, like a window sliding open or shut. I glanced back toward the street, but the fog obscured everything.
To our left, Mrs. Atkins’s house was a white blur. A row of dark pines marked the property line between the two yards, their shapes ghostly in the mist.
At the bluff, the yard ended. The water had vanished, the sky invisible. The steep drop disappeared into nothingness. Rowandidn't look in the direction of the lake but stared intently at me. "Where on the bluff did you find it?"
Inside my hoodie pocket, my fingers found the bag. Cold plastic, and beneath it, the irregular shape of the rock. I curled my fingers around the solid weight of it, the plastic crackling.
Rowan's gaze dropped to my hand inside my pocket, then back to my face. Waiting.
We were three feet from the edge. This was where Leah had stood in the moonlight, dizzy with adrenaline and panic and fear. Where she'd felt the ground disappear beneath her feet. Where hours later, she'd attempted to claw back up, broken and bleeding, to save herself.
I couldn't see the water, but I heard the relentless waves. The same sound Leah heard before she died.
I brought the bag out of my pocket. The rock sat heavy in the plastic, its weight obscene in my hand. This ordinary rock had caved in a child's skull. The dark smears showed almost black. Two fine strands caught the light—black hair, stuck in dried blood.
My stomach roiled. I wanted to drop it, hurl it into the lake, scrub my sullied hands raw. Instead, I held it between us.
Rowan stared at it in horror. "What the hell is that?"
"I found this. There's blood on it, and hair. I think someone used this to…" I couldn't finish. I didn't need to.
Rowan's pupils contracted. Her lips parted, not quite a gasp, something sharper. Her intent gaze remained on the rock.
I looked at the rock in my hand. At Rowan. Then at the water beyond the bluff, as if I might throw it in. "I need to tell you something."
Rowan watched me, waiting.
"I wasn't truthful just now."
"What are you trying to say, Dahlia?"
"I didn't find this out here on the bluff." I forced myself to meet her eyes. "It was in Mia's room."
She didn't blink. Something smoothed in her face. "The police didn't find it in their search?"
"I hid it. I was scared."
"That’s understandable."
"I keep thinking, if I hadn't seen it first—if the cops had found it—Mia wouldn't have a chance. They'd charge her as an adult. They'd lock her up forever and throw away the key."
Rowan took a step toward me. Her expression softened. "We can make sure that never happens, Dahlia. I can make it disappear. Let me protect you both."
My whole body was shaking. "You'd really help us? I'm so tired of being afraid, Rowan. So tired."
"Of course I'll help. That's what friends do." Her gaze stayed on the rock, not on me. "Give it to me. I'll take care of it."
I held the rock closer to my chest. The wind tugged at my hair. "My mind keeps spinning. I can't sleep. I keep thinking I should have been a better mom. Done things differently. Then none of this would've happened. How could I not have known? My own daughter. How could she hide so much from me?"
A flash of impatience in her eyes, just a flicker, then it was gone. "I'm sure you did your best, honey. Give me the rock. Let me help you."
