“How can you be so sure?” I pour myself a glass of water from the pitcher on the island and take a sip. My throat is parched.
Scarlett bends forward and studies the photo like evidence from a crime scene. “Where did you get this?”
“In the mail pile. There’s a note on the back.” I flip it over. “It says Sadie is alive, and if we want her to stay that way, we can’t go to the police.”
Scarlett inhales sharply and Gabriel frowns. “Like I said before, it’s obviously fake. It’s easy to photoshop photos these days.”
My pulse spikes. “What if it’s not? What if it’s real, Gabriel? What if Sadie is alive?”
“Don’t.” He slams his fist on the counter so hard my glass of water rattles. “We’ve been through this. She’s gone, Judy.”
Guilt and defiance war inside me. I think of the hidden note that claims he knows more than he’s admitted.
Scarlett’s voice is low but firm when she speaks. “We should at least investigate.”
Gabriel’s laughter is sharp. “No. That camp is backed by wealthy donors, politicians, lawyers. Accusing them could ruin us.” I guess since he’s a lawyer, he should know about this.
He pours himself a glass of water and downs it as though it were wine or something stronger. “You both need to think straight.”
“I’ve never been clearer,” I shoot back. “You’re the one who should think straight.”
He eyes me like I’m a stranger and not his wife. Fear, rage, and grief swirl together until I can’t stand it.
Excusing myself, I turn and flee the apartment, running barefoot down the stairs and out through the glass rotating doors.
The wind has picked up, especially on the beach. It lashes my skin and whips my hair across my face, stinging my eyes.
The waves are loud, crashing the shore with a fury that’s allowed to be unleashed without judgment while I have learned to keep mine contained even though I’d rather burn this world to the ground.
My fists clench and unclench as I march into the surf, clothes soaked in seconds, dragging me down, as the cold water swallows me inch by inch. I don’t stop until the water reaches my shoulders, my feet barely touching the sandy bottom that starts to shift from under me, like my entire world is doing.
During the three weeks I was here after what happened, I stood in these waters every day, imagining Sadie’s body tossed by these currents, her lungs filling with this same dark water. I’ve visualized the horror a thousand times. It always got my heart racing.
This time it does the opposite. My heartbeat slows to a steady drum, and the usually vivid images in my mind are scatteredand fleeting, refusing to assemble into coherence. I try again, squeezing my eyes shut so hard I see stars, but no images come. Only nothingness.
I know what this absence means.
Dragging myself back to shore, I turn to look to my right, while water streams from my soaked clothes. Through wet eyelashes, I spot them, pinpricks of yellow light from Saltspray Cove Youth Camp, glowing against the darkening sky.
My fingers flex beneath the water’s surface. I know why I no longer feel the usual knot of panic when stepping into this ocean.
When I return to the apartment, I find Gabriel waiting for me at the door with two towels. One he uses to wrap around me, and the other to dry my hair. We don’t speak as he holds me tight.
As I bury my face into his neck, I want to tell him what my heart knows, but something stops me.
It’s like I instinctively thought that night on the beach. Sadie didn’t die in those waters.
Maybe she didn’t die at all.
FIVE
In the morning, after only three hours of sleep, I sit up in bed and yawn, rubbing my eyes. I’m exhausted, but my mind is sharp and hyper aware. In fact, I’ve never felt more awake.
After brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I step into the living area.
Gabriel is already in there, at the kitchen island, with his laptop in front of him. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared even in rest, like he’s bracing for impact.
Wearing a crisp white shirt and blue dress pants, the family lawyer in him is already awake and on the job even at seven in the morning. His red eyes tell me he hasn’t slept much either.
