Page 49 of Dead of Summer
FAITH
Faith shines the light from her phone into the empty space where only seconds before David and Orla had stood, but it can’t penetrate the tangle of debris and boards below.
“David? Orla?” Elena calls out into the chasm. There is no reply, only the creaks and moans of the house settling.
“I’m Alice Gallo,” Elena had admitted to Faith finally, the week before the engagement.
She had told her the whole story the moment she’d found out about Gemma’s disappearance, explaining how Geoffrey’s men had searched until they found Alice, alone in the dark treading water.
“I think they wished I had died. It would have been so much less messy. So much cheaper.”
They took her back to the yacht, where Geoffrey had held her against her will until Alice signed the NDA.
The payment would be enough to keep her very comfortable in the city she’d always wanted to live in.
Her only stipulation was that her mother be able to come too.
“She’d been through so much with my dad, I could never have let her think I was dead. ”
After a respectable amount of time had passed, her mother followed her to the city, and the two of them severed all ties to the island.
“But I could never fully move on. Of course I couldn’t.
You can never truly escape the place you came from.
Especially when your new friend starts dating the son of your kidnapper. ”
“Why didn’t you tell me about David?” Faith had said, hurt.
“I signed an NDA, remember? What if you had lived happily ever after? I couldn’t risk blowing up my entire life. And my mother’s.” She paused. “And I was curious, I suppose. I wanted David to have grown up, to have changed.”
“It would seem he didn’t,” Faith said bitterly, still processing the information.
“No. He is still his father’s son. He never changed like he wanted to.”
Faith had begun to panic once she heard what he was capable of.
“I’m all alone here. And Geoffrey knows that I know something. I’m sure of it. He’s been dropping hints.”
There had been a long pause on the other side. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I thought if I could keep a close enough eye on you—” She’d broken off. “I’ve been staying in the house.”
Faith was stunned. “The abandoned one? You’ve been there all alone?”
“I wanted to be close, in case something happened. But listen to me, Faith. You should leave now. Go back to New York on the next ferry. You can forget this whole thing ever happened. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you involved in all this. It wasn’t fair of me.”
“No,” Faith had said, surprising herself. “I need to stay and find Gemma. I could never forgive myself if something happened to her now after everything I know.”
“I’ll help you,” Elena had said right away, and they’d spent the next hours carefully devising a plan.
“What if David sees you, or Geoffrey?” Faith had asked right before they hung up. Elena, now Alice, had snorted derisively. “I might be the only person on the planet who is not afraid of Geoffrey Clarke.”
There is a clatter as loose flooring falls now through the hole in front of them.
“It’s not safe up here,” Elena says, pulling Faith back from the edge. They inch their way down the hall, Faith’s hand on Elena’s shoulder, carefully taking the stairs to the first floor. The house shifts and groans around them.
On the way through the living room Faith’s flashlight catches on a chair printed with moldy red flowers. Her mom is perched on the edge of it. Her hair is wet. Her face, free of makeup, looks dignified, beautiful. She smiles, a real smile.
“You dodged a bullet with that one, baby girl.”
“Sure did.”
“Look at you. I’m so proud of you.”
Elena’s voice echoes through the dark. “Faith, over here. I found them.”
Faith follows Elena’s voice though the living room to the place where the upstairs floor had given way.
They shine their flashlights into the pile of rotted boards.
A ring of debris surrounds the space where David and Orla fell.
Their lights catch the dust, refracting in a halo of particles falling gently around them like snow.
As it settles, Faith can finally see the shape of them, there in the middle.
David’s limbs are twisted, bent at unnatural angles over a pile of broken floorboards.
His mouth and eyes are still open in shock.
His chest is still. David has broken Orla’s fall.
She landed artfully on the center of his body, her arms stretched out as though she is still trying to embrace him, covering him with a veil of fine red hair.