A lump forms in my throat. “They should have done all that before.”
“I know,” Alice says quietly. “I guess they thought what they already did was enough back then. Oh, I also heard they might be expanding into adult workshops or retreats, or whatever they’re called.”
Gabriel sets down his newspaper. “Adult retreats? What kind?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know any details. It could just be rumors. But the camp is definitely changing.” Alice opens the door again. “Well, I should take Coco now. She’s getting impatient.”
Coco gives a small bark, as if to agree.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Of course,” Alice replies, and then she’s gone.
Gabriel turns to me. “You’re not really thinking of going there.”
I don’t answer. I just look out the tall windows at the blue water beyond the marina and the pastel buildings in the distance, wishing I could see the last room Sadie stayed in.
Finally, Scarlett stands and smooths a hand over her hip, tugging at the sleeve of her cardigan. “I think I’m going to go to the gym.”
“The gym?” I repeat. “Here, in the building?”
“No.” Scarlett averts her gaze. “In town. I signed up for a free two-day trial. You know, while we’re here.” She laughs lightly, then pinches the soft skin at the back of her arm, her smile tightening. “At forty-three, maybe it’s time I start doing something about this.”
I stare at her, confused. Scarlett hates exercise. Always has. She used to tell me stories about her childhood, about endless swim practices before dawn, competitions every weekend, parents who measured her worth in medals and stopwatches. She’d quit the moment she graduated from high school and any form of exercise after that, even as innocent as an aerobics class, made her break into a cold sweat.
“Since when do you work out?” I ask carefully.
“People change.” She winks. “And, like Coco, I need to get rid of some restless energy.”
She leaves before I can say more. I know she’s going out because she feels uncomfortable around us. She still carries the guilt around with her.
Gabriel exhales sharply. “Peopledochange,” he repeats, coming to take my hand in his.
SIX
I wait until Scarlett is out of the apartment and Gabriel is on a video call with his law firm. That’s when I grab my handbag and phone and head out the door.
The road to the camp is narrow, only a strip of asphalt with tall palm trees on each side. Their leaves sway overhead, rustling softly as their shadows move across my windshield.
I know this road.The thought hits me suddenly, and I find myself gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.
Less than fifteen minutes later, I see the white wrought-iron gates ahead coming into view, but they look different from last time I saw them.
The old gates have been swapped for slightly taller ones, still white, but now reinforced with hidden steel panels that weren’t there before.
A new brass plaque shines in the sun beside the gate: Saltspray Cove Center. They’ve removed the words “Youth” and “Camp” from the name. Maybe the rumors are true, and they plan to start accepting adult guests. This rebranding seems like their first public move toward something different.
Now that the new name is up, I know it won’t be long before they make it official.
As I expected, there are security cameras everywhere. I spot at least six small black domes, and there are probably more I can’t see.
Alice was right; they must have spent a lot on these renovations. It makes sense, since the camp serves the children of celebrities, politicians, and tech moguls—returning, loyal families who can easily pay for upgrades like these.
A heavy feeling settles in my stomach. What if this rebranding is their way of covering up what happened here, of trying to erase my daughter’s disappearance so it doesn’t tarnish their squeaky clean reputation?
Past the gates, the campus looks much the same: neat rows of pastel buildings—powder blue and soft yellow, each with fresh white trim.
Flower beds full of hibiscus and bougainvillea line the stone walkway, their colors almost too cheerful for winter. The lawns and hedges are so neatly trimmed, it looks like someone used nail scissors on them.
