swaths of brightness through the endless night.
She felt lost. Alone.
She thought of the soldiers that had been stationed up here, not knowing if there was an enemy out there in the darkness.
She knew where the enemy was.
The enemy was inside her.
She started to cry then. Real, deep sobs, that came from the depths of her soul. And she didn’t know what was actually devastating her. That she felt her mother was at fault for her marriage? Because she knew that wasn’t the whole story.
That her mother wasn’t a saint?
Or that she wasn’t. And that she had no one to blame but herself.
Not Michael, not Thomas.
Things had gone the way they did because of choices she made.
She let out another wrenching sob as a fat raindrop plunged from the sky and splattered onto her face. All around her, the clouds let down, the rain like ice over her skin, rolling down her back, under her clothes.
So cold at first, but then she stood there, and closed her eyes as the storm raged around her, as the waves began to froth and groan, crashing against the rocks like they were trying to destroy the very foundations of the outcropping the lighthouse sat on.
The very foundations of her life.
And she waited.
Waited for things to crumble around her.
Waited for the rain to make her feel clean.
But she didn’t. No amount of rain, no amount of self-righteous anger at her mother... Nothing seemed to work.
And she wondered if this was just life now. Caught somewhere between happiness and guilt. A remorseless sort of guilt that she didn’t know if she could ever explain, let alone sort through inside of her own heart.
It wasn’t even all about the affair, but how she’d gotten there. How she’d let her life get away from her, and allowed herself to be a passenger in her own existence, rather than the driver.
She supposed all of that, those things that didn’t make sense, went right along with wearing her mother’s shawl to keep out the chill, even while she was so angry with her.
Her life was splintered. Her feelings were fractured.
And she wondered if they could ever be whole again.
22
We fought. He kissed me. I lost my mind. I am not myself here. I am not myself with him.
—FROM THE DIARY OF JENNY HANSEN, APRIL 20, 1900
RACHEL
Rachel had no idea if Adam would still be down at J’s. But she also didn’t know where else to go. She drove too fast down the winding road. The rain, combined with the streetlights, made little dots of gold on the windshield. Maybe he wouldn’t be there. She could have called to check. But either way the drive would...help clear her head, maybe.
Emma had told Rachel she wanted to go to Catherine’s house and it was probably lazy parenting to let her. Wasn’t she supposed to sit with her and have a heart-to-heart? But it was her birthday and it had ended explosively. If she wanted to go hang out with a friend...who was Rachel to stop her? She hoped that Emma didn’t think what Hannah had said about Adam was true.
And here she was, on her way to see him.
And you going to see Adam has nothing to do with how weird Hannah made you feel?
Well, maybe it did. She needed to see him to be sure that...it was the same still.
When she pulled up in front of the diner, she could see that there was still a light on. She parked by the curb and walked up to the door. It was locked. But she could see Adam, standing there behind the counter. She knocked, and he looked up, his blue eyes clashing with hers. His beard was a little longer than normal, and it made him look just a little bit dangerous.
Which was weird. More than weird.
Because Adam was her safe space. He wasn’t dangerous at all. But she couldn’t quite shake that thought, even as he came over to unlock the door.
“Is everything all right?”
She didn’t have an answer to that. “Can I come in?”
He looked her up and down. “Of course.”
He backed away from the door, and she slipped inside, the smell of his aftershave catching her for a moment. Then she just walked over to her regular stool.
“I hope you’re not after food, because I just got everything cleaned up.”
“No.”
“You want some of Anna’s pie?”
Of course, he offered food, even when he’d just said she couldn’t have it. “I didn’t come for food. I don’t really ever come