She’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.
Waiting for him.
49
IMOGEN
I slam the front door behind me, flip on the lights, twist the dead bolt, my soaked boots squealing against the hardwood. The “Front door open” startles me more than usual. But when it quiets, I process how empty the house is—too innocent, too quiet for what I’m about to do.
The alarm panel waits just to the left of the doorframe. My shaky hands hover over the box as I look for an obvious way to set off the alarm. I’ve never assessed the panel, barely knew if there would be a switch for calling the police when I decided to come over here—half remembering a red button from when we first arrived last week. But then, tucked in the bottom corner of the panel, I see a red button: Panic.
I jab it with the heel of my hand, fingers too slippery.
After a split second of silence, the house detonates with sound.
The alarm screams to life, a high-pitched, blaring wail that piercesthrough the walls. My ears feel like they’re splitting open. I clamp my palms over them, heart pounding as Robot Woman says, “Emergency. Police dispatched.”
It worked. Oh my god, it worked.
I twist the dead bolt again and rip the door open, ready to sprint back down the hill to Amelia and Madison. To tell them we’re saved.
But my body halts mid-step.
There, staggering across the porch, is Parker. Our eyes meet for one frozen heartbeat before instinct seizes me.
I whip around, slam the door behind me, and bolt for the lakefront door that leads down to the dock.
50
IMOGEN
The alarm still screams from the house behind me, even through the rain, as I run down the stairs toward the dock. I barrel down them, taking two at a time in the dark, hands clutching the rails as wind whips my hair.
I could’ve gone back around to the front of the house, back toward the Holloways’. But Parker would have followed me there. If he saw Madison or Amelia…
I couldn’t risk it.
So I chose the only path that veers away from everything I love.
Somewhere, police cruisers are already spinning into gear, but I need to isolate Parker until they get here. Assuming he’s following me…
The motion lights ignite when my feet slam onto the dock, flooding me in an aggressive white light. It’s like standing in a spotlight, exposing me to the outside. The lake below is black and swirling against the shoreline in clobbering bursts.
When I get to the dock, I see our fleet. The pontoon boat sits locked, useless without the keys. The pedal boat is half submerged, full of brown rainwater. That leaves the kayak: overturned at the edge, light enough to drag, unstable enough to drown me in seconds as the waves crash against us.
I think of Mom. Of her hair lashing across her face that night, fumbling for this same battered kayak in a storm similar to the one I’m up against.
The thought solidifies something. She was running that night, hurried. Was she running from Parker? Washethe young man at the tavern with her? Was she trying to drive him away again? Threatening to spill his secret?
My chest shakes out a sob, feeling helpless and disoriented.
I look at the boats again, weighing my options. Jumping in the kayak wouldn’t just be dangerous, sucking me out into the knotted waters. It would draw Parker back upstairs—either to hurt the girls or flee.
I’m trapped here, on Mom’s dock. There’s nowhere to go.
“Imogen!”
The voice rips through the air, and I spin around toward the hillside.
