the Navy—”
“Hey,” I say, and it’s easy to pretend everything’s fine when you don’t know what’s wrong. “My dad’s Navy. There are good people there.” It doesn’t matter if I believe it. It doesn’t matter that Mr. Harker showed me what a good man can become, that I’ve seen what a father can do to his daughter. “They will help us. It’s not over.”
“Your dad?” She sighs. Pity, but more than anything, impatience. “Hetty, honey, your dad thinks you’re dead.”
“What?” She has to be lying. I push back a swell of nausea. She said not to trust the Navy, but it was her in the woods last night handing over Mona’s body. She’s the one we can’t trust. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s all of you,” Welch says. “Your families, your neighbors. You don’t understand. It’s been over for a long, long time.”
I don’t believe you, I repeat to myself, I don’t. It’s not working, though. Because it makes sense.
Oh God. Nobody worrying about us, nobody waiting. And we couldn’t talk to our parents anymore, and it was for security, but it wasn’t. It was just another lie, and we believed it.
“Hang on,” Julia says. “You have to explain.” But Welch is looking at Carson now, and her face has turned soft.
“Carson,” she says. A whisper, the wind slipping it into our ears, and she holds out her hand. “Come here a minute. I need your help.”
I grab for Carson’s sleeve, but she’s already moved, stepping carefully across the wet boards to take Welch’s hand. My stomach drops as Welch pulls a knife out from her jacket pocket, the blade fire-bright and thirsty.
Julia yells, but it’s too late. Welch has her grip tight around Carson’s wrist, and she leans in. “It’s okay, Carson,” she says. “I just want to end it my way. The only thing you have to do is slide it home.”
I look to Julia. She nods. I draw the pistol from my waistband and hold it by my side. We can’t lose Welch. She knows where they’ve taken Byatt, and if she goes, the answers go with her. And even with all the lies she’s told me, all the things I think she’s done, everyone knows the whole place will fall to pieces without her. We need her. I need her.
“You can help me,” Welch is saying. She presses the knife handle to Carson’s palm, the blade glinting like ice in the winter sun. “It’s easy. It’ll be so easy.”
“Don’t,” Julia says, her gun coming up in a blink. Aimed true at Carson, not even the smallest shake to it. Welch knew what she was doing when she asked Carson. Of all of us, she’s the easiest to maneuver, the one most likely to say yes. She might do this for Welch, and we can’t let her.
“You can do it,” Welch says, her smile growing. “You’re strong enough, Carson. I know you are.”
I can’t see Carson’s face, but with the way her shoulders straighten, I can tell. Nobody’s said that to her before. I lift my gun, level it at the base of Carson’s neck. I’m close enough that I won’t miss.
“Let her go,” Julia says to Welch, a quiver in her voice turning it to a plea. “Come back to the house with us. We can fix this.”
Carson is staring down at her hand, holding tight to the knife, and I can see her knuckles whiten.
“This is it.” Welch closes her eyes, presses her forehead against Carson’s. “You’re the only one who can help me.”
“Drop the knife, Carson,” I say. “I’ll shoot. You know I will. We need her at the house. We can’t hold it together ourselves.”
Nobody moves. Just the wind and the ocean spray, and above us the sun is starting to break through the clouds. I blink hard, refocus my aim.
“I’m sorry,” Carson says at last. “I can’t, I’m sorry.”
I let my gun drop, feel my breath rush out of me. A shaft of sunlight slips through to bounce off the water, and as Julia turns to shield her eyes, I watch it happen. Welch’s hands clasping tight around Carson’s, keeping the knife in her grip. Welch’s chin lifting, and a smile breaking as she looks up. The last flex of her arms as she pulls Carson in and buries the knife between her own ribs.
CHAPTER 18
She goes down slowly. To her knees first, and then she slumps forward onto the pier as Carson lets go and staggers away.
“I didn’t,” Carson is