Page 26

Claire

Now

“What are you doing in here?”

I’ve been caught red-handed, my neck craned towards the computer, Phoebe frozen on the screen.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I say to the figure barricading the doorway.

“I came in here to check on you,” Declan says, one eyebrow raised.

“Josh said you’d gotten back. I was hoping we could…

talk. I checked your room first, of course, but it’s empty.

Then I thought I heard a sound coming from in here, and well, here you are watching videos of…

” He trails off as he realizes what—who—I’m watching, and I see his spine straighten.

He opens his mouth as if to say something more, but his jaw goes slack with shock.

“It was Randy,” I start, before rushing out the full explanation. Randy’s weird comment about remembering what room I had stayed in, finding the camera, sneaking into this closet.

As I talk, Declan grows more and more tense, his fingers inching up into his palms, so that by the time I’m done with my explanation, his hands are fists, a red flush staining his cheeks.

“That fecking eejit,” he manages after a moment. “I should have let Kyan take him when he had the chance.”

“I know, it’s revolting. But this may be good for us. There may be something on one of these videos that can help us figure out what really happened to Phoebe,” I say, gesturing to the screen.

Am I imagining it, or does a flash of panic cross his face?

But before I can question it, it’s gone, and Declan’s pulling another chair away from the wall.

I scoot over to make room for him in front of the computer.

It’s tight when we finally manage to fit the two chairs together.

My arm rubs against his as we sit, and despite starting the video, for a few moments I can’t seem to focus on anything but his skin against mine.

I think about before. First in Cairns and then the Whitsundays. The almost obscene beauty of both places lost on me, as all I could focus on was him. The two of us together. The days passed laughing and talking, the nights cuddled up next to each other on his twin-size bed.

Before we arrived in Jagged Rock and everything was ruined.

I force myself to sit there next to him as the video plays, unfolding just the way I remember. The fury radiating off me as I enter the room, violently twisting my head in all directions, as if expecting to find Phoebe hiding, before running out of the room.

Declan doesn’t say anything, doesn’t bother asking why I was so angry.

And suddenly I can’t take it anymore. I quickly stop the video. “Looks like that’s it from that one.”

I check my watch: 4:42 p.m. Randy will be back in eighteen minutes.

“We don’t have much time,” I explain to Declan. “Just enough for a few more.”

Declan nods. “Maybe we should go in order? Try the next video?”

I nod, buzzing inside, in awe of how good it feels to finally have a partner in this. To no longer be in it alone.

I recognize the room in the next video immediately, Adrien’s Louis Vuitton suitcase discarded in the corner. The camera is trained on the bed where two figures meld together, writhing in unison, blankets discarded on the floor.

Declan clears his throat next to me and I snatch the mouse to jump forward a few minutes, until they’ve finished and Adrien has pulled the blanket up to cover her chest and Kyan’s waist.

Like all the other videos, it’s silent, the camera not equipped to pick up sound. I watch Kyan grab his phone on the nightstand as Adrien lies next to him, breathless and content, judging from the small smile decorating her lips.

Even all these years later, I can’t help but feel a jolt of pain for Phoebe, thinking how much she would have hated this. I’ve never fully forgiven Kyan for how easily he discarded her. It seemed as though he was using her to make Adrien jealous, to prompt her into making a move.

Suddenly on-screen, Kyan jerks in the bed, sitting upright, his gaze glued to his phone. Adrien sits up next to him, resting her hand on his back, peering over his shoulder, her face distorting into anger.

In an instant, they’re both out of the bed, ripping their clothes from the floor and yanking them on.

Adrien yells something at Kyan, who snaps back at her.

The exchange volleys back and forth. I lean closer to the screen, as if the proximity will render the video audible, and I feel Declan do the same.

We both suck in a breath at the same time. Even without sound, the video is clear enough to capture Kyan’s face, to pick up on the outline of his lips as he talks. He spits one word, his lips first puckered then stretched, baring his teeth.

Phoebe.

Without stopping to wait for Adrien, he charges towards the door, the camera capturing his face as he leaves.

It’s a mask of rage, a shade of anger I’ve seen Kyan wear only once before: this morning, when he almost fought Randy.

Adrien follows closely behind him, her usual cold expression now warped into something that can only be described as pure hatred.

And then the video ends, plunging the screen into blackness. Declan and I sit in the dark for a moment, neither of us moving.

“Did you know?” I ask softly. “How upset they were with Phoebe?”

He shakes his head.

I rewind ten seconds before the video ends, freezing it on the image of Kyan’s face. My eyes clock the time stamp: 10:42 p.m.

Phoebe would have still been out there when Kyan and Adrien fled the room. She would have been wandering in the vast backyard of the Outback, not realizing she only had a short time left to live.

And Kyan and Adrien went after her, furious.

I open my mouth, but the words are barely audible, a whisper on wind. “Declan, does this mean—”

But before I can finish the thought, I’m interrupted by a sound. The latch of a door.

“Shite,” Declan whispers. “Randy must be back.”

Declan holds his finger to his lips before taking one large step forward and pulling the string to the overhead light.

We’re plunged into darkness, just as I hear footsteps trail closer to the door.

Declan and I back up against the wall, our arms rubbing against each other. After a moment, I feel his fingers slip into mine.

The footsteps continue closer until they veer towards the left, followed by a steady thud against the stairs. Not one set, but several.

I slowly exhale but keep my fingers entwined with Declan’s. It’s just the others coming in from outside.

I turn to Declan just as he does the same, our faces so close I can feel his breath warm against my cheek.

As my eyes adjust to the dim light sneaking beneath the crack in the door, I can feel his gaze lock on mine.

And suddenly it’s ten years ago again, my world narrowed into nothing but him.

His face moves slowly towards mine and I draw even closer.

My eyes brush closed as I anticipate the feeling of his lips on mine, one that I never thought I would experience again. And then…

The noise erupts through the closet. So abrupt that I skirt backwards, my spine connecting with the wall.

Declan’s wide eyes confirm my suspicions.

“That was a scream.”