Page 133 of High Season

“It’s over for us,” Blake says. “For both of us, if you go to the police.”

Hannah has considered this. She has considered the consequences. And yet, her decision is made.

“It’s already over.”

That’s when Blake takes another step toward her. That’s when Hannah sees the flash of desperation in his eyes.

That’s when he pushes her against the wall of the pink house.

That’s when Blake grabs hold of her throat.

FIFTY-ONE

2024

The world goes quiet.

There is a rushing sound in Hannah’s ears. The heat of Blake’s breath against her face. The weight of him pushing down on her. She thinks of Mason and Noah and Isla. She thinks of Eric.

She sees, as her vision turns red, Tamara Drayton. Not as she has seen her for the past twenty years, gray and limp on the side of the pool. She sees her laughing with Blake, the flicker of energy that always seemed to dance in the air between them. She sees her smoking cigarettes out on the terrace. She sees her looking at Hannah, that steely determination in her eyes. The life within her. The fire.

Her vision is blurring. The light turning into static, a rush of stars. The world is silent and still, other than the pulse of her blood. The roar of sound that fills her skull.

For a second—for just a moment of strange clarity—Hannah wonders if this is what it was like for Tamara. If she, too, was filled with this strange feeling of being outside of herself. Of the world rushing away from her, with nothing she could do to stop it.

“Getawayfrom her!”

Through the hum of her body fighting for air, Hannah does not quite register the voice. Only the feeling of a weight lifting from her.Air rushing back into her lungs. The sensations return to her body, and she is scrabbling for her own throat, clawing at the place where Blake’s hands held her tight, choking in her hurry to suck in oxygen.

Through explosions in her vision, she sees Nic, his arms around Blake as he pulls him away. She sees Josie. Imogen, her phone in one hand, held up toward them. Nina, looking straight at her brother, a slightly dazed look in her eyes.

“Take your fucking hands off me!”

Blake struggles against Nic, but her cousin holds him tightly around his torso and drags him backward.

“Nina.” Blake’s head thrashes back, trying to see his sister.

Nina’s face remains impassive, her mouth a straight line, her eyes hard.

“You lied to me,” she says softly. “All this time, you’ve been lying to me.”

“You let them in?” Blake is saying. “You let Josie Jackson into our house?”

“I letmyselfin,” says Josie.

“But I let the others in,” says Nina. “The rest of them. After Josie told me everything.”

Nic releases his grip and Blake, still braced against him, flails free, losing his balance and collapsing onto his hands and knees. Above him, Imogen holds up the phone and taps the screen. Hannah sees two figures twitch into life.

It’s over for us. For both of us, if you go to the police.

“Nina,” says Blake. “It’s not what you think. I can explain.”

“Did you really think I’d come see you without telling someone?” says Hannah. Her voice is quiet and unwavering. “Did you really think I’d let myself be alone with you?”

He looks at her with horror, and then back at Josie.

“You planned this.”