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I give Kincaid a look like he needs counseling asap but Kincaid only nods at me in return.

“You better go, Sydney,” he says grimly.

I stand there, looking between the two of them, before I nod and walk off.

When I reach the lodge, I look over my shoulder, but they’ve both disappeared.

CHAPTER 21

“Oh my god, sunshine,”Lauren exclaims as we step out of the lodge. “And holy fuck I think we can actually see the peninsula.”

We walk over to the totem pole for a closer look, and sure enough, beyond the sparkling inlet and the forest of fir and hemlock on the other side, the mountainous mass of the Brooks Peninsula rises up into the blinding blue sky.

“I was starting to think it didn’t exist,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee from the paper cup, though now I don’t think I need the caffeine. The change in weather alone is enough to perk me up.

It does the same to the rest of the students, everyone a little louder, with a little more spring in their step as we walk over to the learning center. The air is cool and soft, smelling of cedar and fresh-cut grass, birds call out from the trees, and everyone looks a bit healthier in the bright light.

Which is good timing because the camping trip is tomorrow and it would suck if the weather was awful. I once went camping with my father when I was eight years old, in Redwood National Park, and it poured the whole time. Looking back, it’s one of my fondest memories of my childhood because I actually had myfather’s undivided attention, and I felt like the luckiest girl in the world despite the water seeping into our tent, but my poor father complained endlessly, feeling bad. Obviously he really wanted to have the perfect trip with his little girl.

Tears well in my eyes at the memory, grief as slippery as an eel.

We head inside the classroom and take our seats. Kincaid is at his usual spot, leaning against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a dusky blue button-up that matches his eyes, the sleeves rolled up. I can’t believe he’s had my vagina in his mouth and yet I haven’t seen the full extent of his tattoo.

“Morning,” he says gruffly to the class. “Today we’re going to spend our time discussing the camping trip to the Brooks Peninsula tomorrow. We’ll be leaving bright and early, six a.m., so it’s best that we go through it all now. This is a trip for all students, including those in marine sciences, and it’s something we all need to be fully prepared for.”

He pauses and clears his throat. “Before we get into that, however, I must inform you that a student had to be sent home. Clayton Wade.”

I stiffen, my stomach twisting in knots.

Murmurs fill the room as we all look around, noticing he’s not here.

What the hell?

“Unfortunately,” Kincaid goes on, avoiding my eyes as I stare blatantly at him, “Clayton wasn’t adjusting to life at Madrona the way that we had hoped. He was put on the first seaplane out this morning. Let this be a warning to all of you—if any of you are struggling in any way, please come talk to me. Schedule an extra counseling session if you can. This is a wild, tough land to inhabit, even with all the comforts of the lodge, and the isolation can get to even the hardiest of minds.”

Kincaid then starts discussing the trip, but I’m no longer listening. Clayton was acting strange yesterday. Hell, he’s been strange this whole time. I have to wonder what he discussed with Kincaid the other day. What was it that made him want to leave? He was a creep that seemed to mistrust the foundation, but I never heard him say he wanted to go, just that his fortune teller told him he wouldn’t.

Wait, Kincaid said that Clayton was put on a plane, making it seem like it wasn’t Clayton’s idea. Was he forcefully removed from the premises?

Was it because of me?

Lauren nudges me. “Should be nicer without him around,” she whispers. “Did you get Clayton in trouble?”

I shake my head. “Not on purpose,” I whisper back.

Kincaid’s focus is on me now so I press my lips together and force myself to pay attention.

When class is over, however, I head right to his desk, wanting to ask him what really happened with Clayton, because I’m not sure it’s as simple as all that. But as soon as I approach, Everly enters the learning center.

“Good morning, Syd,” Everly says to me cheerfully, though her smile is strained. Even in the morning she looks chic with a matching black yoga set that shows off her long skinny legs. “Sorry to cut you off at the pass, but I need to speak to Wes. Alone.”

I look at Kincaid and he just gives me a subtle nod.

“Okay, no worries,” I tell them, playing it cool. Of course, I only say no worries when I am absolutely full of worries.

I open the door, looking over my shoulder to see Everly’s sharp eyes on me, waiting for me to leave.

Where am I?