Page 238 of Secrets Along the Shore

I noticed her thumb covered the right side. It felt like she was covering a certain person…someone standing next to her.

“Why’d you take Evan’s picture? You can’t keep taking people’s photos. I let you take the other one because your sister was in it, but you’ll have to give that picture back to Evan.”

“I’m sure he won’t miss it.”

I faced forward, stunned by her selfish comment. I knew Becca had a lot of trauma in her life, but that didn’t excuse stealing. Still, I held my tongue and drove her home.

At her house, I pulled in. She opened the door to step out and removed her thumb from the picture to pull the handle. I waited for the opportunity to sneak a peek. It was fast, but I only needed a split second to catch the familiar face.

Nathan Scanlon.

Becca not only lied to me about never seeing the man again after that night, but she knew him as a friend and always had.

And so did Evan and Sheriff McNealy.

They were all lying. And they were all covering for the man.

CHAPTER

TWENTY

I arrivedat the lodge just as the sun rose above the mountains, painting Flathead Lake with a bleeding gold. The sky looked like it was on fire, and I wondered if there was a sign I should be seeing in the sight. But after over forty-eight hours without sleep, I couldn’t read signs anymore—not in the sky, not in people, and not even in my own language. I was beyond exhausted.

Evan’s golden retriever, slightly skittish over being taken out of his home by a stranger, stuck close to my side, nose twitching. At least I’d saved one life today.

The key opened the lodge’s front door, the old brass knob hard to turn in my weakened state. No lights flicked on when I hit the switch. I tried again, then realized Mr. Monroe hadn’t returned to fix the electrical panel. Darkness would come soon. Another night in the dark.

No way was I sticking around.

I moved through the house like on autopilot, gathering my things. I’d once thought I could make this place a home, maybe even a sanctuary. Foolish. The people of this town didn’t want me here. They never had. Not Sheriff McNealy, not Evan, and certainly not Becca.

They’d all protected Nathan Scanlon.

They’d known what he did.

And still, they kept silent.

How many of us had there been? I’d counted twelve students in thejournals, but who knew how many were brought here with no paper trail at all? Livvie had seen the truth, and they’d killed her for it.

In my room, I dropped a sweater into my bag and sat heavily on the bed. I just needed a few minutes. Just a moment to close my eyes. I would have a long drive back to Coeur d’Alene tonight, but it was time to go home.

The golden retriever curled up beside me, his breathing warm and steady. Safe. Comforting. I let my head fall back onto the pillow…and immediately fell into a dream.

Livvie stood on the dock, barefoot and crying. Her blond curls were wet, clinging to her face, her eyes wide with fear. “You have to go,” she said. Her voice was crystal clear—something I never heard when she was alive. Her voice was just as I always imagined. Sweet, but strong. Then a cloud overtook her, and she vanished before me. But I still heard her voice through the thickness of the smoke. “Scarlett, wake up. Wake up now. You have to go.”

I shot up, heart pounding, eyes wide—and saw smoke. Real smoke.

It wasn’t a dream.

The air was thick and gray. The dog barked wildly, pawing at me, but I couldn’t hear him. I was still Deaf. I staggered to the door, flung it open—and flames licked up the main staircase.

“No, no, no,” I gasped.

There was no going down. The only way was up to the third floor attic.

I grabbed the dog’s collar, and we raced up the hall to the attic stairs. I didn’t think. I just moved to where the flames hadn’t reached yet.

When I pushed open the attic door, the air was clearer. I closed the door and saw the dog take off to the other side of the attic. I went after him, not wanting him to get hurt up here. But in the light coming from the window, I saw a form crumpled on the floor.