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“At poker,” I finish.

His eyes widen, brows reaching the ceiling.

He knows that I know.

His hands are shaking now as he slips a crewneck sweater over me just as Everly and Michael come bursting through the door.

“What the hell happened?” Everly asks. “Syd, are you okay?”

David looks at them tersely. “I think she knows.”

Everly and Michael exchange a look of surprise. Then Everly looks back at me. Really stares at me.

I stare right back at her. “Hello, Everly.”

Her eye twitches, and she slowly nods. “Hello, Sydney.” She lets out a shaky breath and slowly walks over to me, dropping to her knees beside me, placing her hand on my thigh. “Where is Wes?”

“He’s gone,” I tell her. Her mouth drops open. “He’s not dead. But I’m worried he’s not alright. He’s on the boat. He’s out at sea. On auto-pilot. I had to knock him unconscious.”

“Why?” Michael asks, crossing his arms.

“Because he kidnapped me. He tied me up. He was taking me away from here.”

Everly’s eyes narrow. “But didn’t you want to leave?”

“Not in a storm. And then I remembered…I remember.” I pause. “Did you know that he killed me?”

The three of them tense up and exchange a look I can’t read.

“I’ll put on some tea,” David says quickly. “I have some stuff that will warm you right up.”

He disappears into the kitchen, and Everly gives my knee a squeeze. “What do you mean that he killed you, Syd?”

“I mean, I remember,” I tell her, though my brain feels fuzzier by the second. “We were arguing on the boat, and I nearly hit my head on the table. That’s when I remembered everything. I remembered how I died.”

Michael clears his throat. “And you think Wes did this on purpose?”

“He pushed me,” I tell him.

“Do you remember him pushing you?” Everly asks.

I nod. Though now that I try and think about it, try to pull up the memory, it changes slightly. It becomes blurry.

“This is new information,” Everly says. “You know, we always suspected his anger would get the best of him. He was so obsessed with you, Syd, do you remember that?”

I frown and put my head in my hands. “I have no idea what I remember anymore. I saw the pictures he kept, and I remember those scenes, but everything else…I don’t remember what I was doing at Madrona. I don’t remember when Wes and I got together and why we broke up. You say he was obsessive...”

“Very,” Everly says. “We were often fearful he would do something.”

“Everly,” Michael says in a warning voice.

“What?” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “It’s true. He couldn’t let you go, could he? He wanted you to be his, and if you couldn’t be, no one else would have you.”

I swallow hard. No. That doesn’t quite make sense. Wes may have killed me, he may have been violent and abusive in that moment, but that doesn’t mean he actually murdered me in cold blood.

“No. No, it was an accident,” I say, the memories swirling again. I try so hard to pinpoint the moment, but I can’t. Earlier, it had been there as clear as day, but now it’s just a haze. Perhaps hitting my head and actually dying did that.

Maybe I don’t remember any of it all.