Page 58

Epilogue

Claire

Then

I try to put it behind me, I really do.

I lie there for hours after my encounter with Phoebe, staring at a hole in the ceiling in my uncomfortable twin bed, our shared room at the Inn feeling emptier than ever. And I think of Phoebe out there, heading by foot to Rollowong, escaping from it all.

I forgave her in the moment for sleeping with Declan. I always did. Whenever she was selfish or condescending—as she incessantly was—I always let it go. I’ve been so weak, always letting her get what she wants.

Even now, she barely apologized before using me, taking advantage of my rage to leave traces of herself behind as evidence. And as usual, I let her.

I throw the covers off, the feeling of the starchy cotton against my skin suddenly unbearable. I need to get outside, to walk.

I know Phoebe’s already made it way too far for me to ever catch up with her, plus I can’t remember the precise direction in which she was headed.

So, instead, I walk the route Nick Gould led us on the other day, out to the mine.

I plan to let my anxieties run rampant until they wear themselves out.

But it doesn’t work.

The farther I walk, the more I replay the conversation with Phoebe in my mind, and the more my anger grows. The ease with which life seems to come to her, the way she skirts away from any responsibility, whether it’s turning up late or killing one of our best friends. It’s infuriating.

And I decide. I’ll report her tomorrow to Nick. I’ll let him know she’s at that shelter in Rollowong. I’ll get my revenge.

By the time I reach the ruins of the mine, I’m confident in my newfound decision. I’m so distracted that I almost don’t notice the door to the mine cracked slightly opened. The last time we’d been out here, it’d been tightly shut.

“Hello?” I say hesitantly, a slight waver in my throat. “Is someone there?”

My question is answered by the silence of the night, the galaxies above stretching out before me. I repeat it once more as I take several cautious steps towards the mine door, dread pulsing in my chest.

I can tell something is wrong. But even with everything else that has gone to shit tonight, I could never expect the sight that awaits me as I pull open the door.

The stars provide only a slight sliver of light, but I can just make out a frail form curled up on the stairs leading down to the mineshaft. I recognize her immediately, short brown curls, arms that I could easily wrap my fingers around, her turquoise eyes tightly closed.

I don’t know what happened. It looks like Phoebe’s injured, a trace of blood lines the steps leading to her body.

Instinctively, I take a step forward, arms outstretched, ready to carry her back up to steady ground, to haul her the entire way to the Inn if need be.

But the image from hours earlier comes back with the weight of a fist. Phoebe’s head thrown back in passion, her body wrapped tightly around Declan’s.

My legs move, taking a step backwards, before my mind can catch up.

I remember the conclusion I came to minutes before. Phoebe is never punished for what she does. She needs to realize that her actions have consequences. She needs to pay.

I’ll come back for her tomorrow, let her spend the night in here.

The door creaks under my hand as I push it shut. I steal one last glance back in the mine, the moonlight striking the metal in such a way as to illuminate Phoebe’s face for a flash of a second.

In the instant before the door slams closed, I think I see her eyes flash open.

My heart is pounding as I process this. It could have been a trick of the light, or just a flicker of my imagination. But if I’m wrong, if she did see me, then she would know that I left her in here. And she wouldn’t hesitate to tell the others what I’ve done.

No, I won’t come back tomorrow. I’ll convince the others to search and lead them away from here.

I have no choice , I tell myself. She deserved this.

I’m still trying to convince myself as I drop the door’s heavy metal lock into place.

As I walk away.