front door. It’s a nice cabin, and in far better condition than I initially believed it to be. It’s not the roughing-it kind of summer home with no electricity or running water. Just the right size, too. Cute and homey. Crickets chirp in my ears. The light of a pockmarked moon reflects off the pond below. An owl hoots as I walk up the three steps and knock on the door. No answer. It’s unlocked, so I step inside, gripping the gun in my pocket.
Upstairs, I hear the stream of a shower. It’s her. I can just feel it. I call out her name and hear a muffled reply that echoes off the lacquered log walls. Something to the effect that she’ll be right down. The shiny logs appear everywhere in this dimly lit cabin. It’s small, tidy, and comfy looking. I walk around happily and peek my head into the kitchen.
Another shout from the second floor. I tiptoe halfway up the stairs and try to make out her words. She wants a towel from the linen closet. My nerves buzz excitedly at the prospect of seeing her again and hearing all about what happened to her. I head to the top of the stairs, reach inside the linen closet, take out a fresh towel, and walk over to the bathroom. The sound of the running shower streams into my ears. I knock on the door, realizing I have a huge grin on my face. A handle squeaks from being turned, and the shower stops. Everything goes quiet. I’m so happy that I forget all about her betrayal of me over that stupid boy. Two stupid boys, actually. Hoes before bros, I tell myself. I shout out to her that I have her towel and that I’m super excited to see her.
The door opens, and I lift the towel toward the crack. Steam pours out. At the last second I see a purple aluminum club arcing toward my head. It’s Willow’s lucky softball bat. I duck, but the bat makes contact along the base of my shoulder. I scream in agony as I fall to the floor, just in time to feel the second blow glance against my skull. The gun falls out of my pocket and onto the floor. A constellation of stars rotates in my blurred vision. I lay there on my side, unable to move, feeling nauseous and numb. Am I paralyzed? She steps over me and takes off down the stairs. The pain of Willow’s betrayal hurts more than the blows she just delivered. Why did she attack me? Is it because I caught her in bed that night? With him? Is it because I know she’s pregnant? I close my eyes and fall into a black spiral. Down and down I plummet.
I’m not sure what I saw that night in that bedroom. Did I see Willow and Julian in bed? Did I hear them arguing about her pregnancy? All I remember is swinging that golf club and hitting the blanket he held up to ward off the blows.
I hear footsteps coming back up the stairs. This is bad. I suddenly realize I don’t want to die in this log cabin.
KARL
HE SPED DOWN THE DARK ROAD, FOLLOWED THE TWISTY TURNS, AND prayed for a miracle. Isla sat next to him, staring quietly out the passenger window. He wanted to assure her that he’d find Katie and Raisin and that everything would be all right. Of course he didn’t know how all of this would end. And the way things were playing out, he wasn’t too optimistic. A queasy feeling settled into his gut.
More than anything, he wanted Isla to see Ray for the man he really was: a selfish bastard who cared only about himself. Was it bad of him to think this way? Yes, and he knew it.
They passed the spot where Isla’s car had nearly gotten forced over the guardrail. The car had long been towed away. Debris littered the area where the car had settled. Tomorrow a road crew would arrive and sweep it all up before hosing the road down. Below lay the suspension bridge, lit up and devoid of traffic. He sped down the hill and turned onto the bridge for the thousand-foot drive over to Harper’s Point. Waves below crashed against each other in an unorganized, random pattern.
He turned on the blue lights and raced across the bridge and didn’t stop until he reached the Briggses’ home. A light was