Page 79 of If Anything Happens To Me

I felt tense the whole way there, but my pulse slowed when we turned onto the lane that led deeper into the boulder-strewn forest. This was sacred territory. My sister had been here. I had visited her grave. I had spoken to her, heard her voice.

I looked around for Fitch’s car but didn’t see it.

It was just past sunrise on this early summer day. In the attic, I’d somehow forgotten that it was the season of the beach, of carefree fun, of sea breezes. Sunlight came through the green leaves and pine needles, creating shadows that danced across the ground as the soft wind ruffled branches overhead. Matt and I drove slowly along the forest road, not saying a word.

That’s when I saw it.

The trees had shaded the spot where Fitch had parked. His car had merged into the low foliage of rhododendrons and mountain laurel, and it had been invisible at first.

“He’s here,” I said.

“You knew it,” Matt said.

Matt parked. I started to open the Jeep door, but Matt grabbed my wrist.

“Wait,” he said.

My heart was pounding now, and there would be no waiting. But he kept talking, trying to reason with me.

“I don’t know what he might do,” Matt said. “He’s hurt you enough already. I know him better than you. You know that, Oli. He is—he was—my friend. Let me go talk to him, get him to turn himself in.”

“He was my friend, too,” I said. “I have to do this, Matt. For Eloise.”

Matt hesitated, then nodded. “I get it,” he said.

He and I walked along the trail. Matt reached out, took my hand. I felt a charge go through me—a tiny lightning bolt, like a burst of magic. So much of the day had felt enchanted, taking me beyond the terror of Fitch: the presence of Eloise, the protection of Daphne, and, now, the touch of Matt.

He turned to me then, as if he felt my gaze, and I saw that familiar smile. The space between his front teeth had always melted my heart. It wasn’t perfect, but it was his. How could I have ever believed he was on Fitch’s side, that he would ever hurt me? This was the Matt I had always known. A boy who had given me his rope bracelet, who I still hadn’t kissed, but it didn’t matter: He was the love of my life.

Sometimes you just know.

Sometimes you just know.

We kept walking. The last time I had come here, I’d been carrying a bouquet of sweet peas for my sister. I had approached her grave, and a voice had called out from the dirt. It had been Iris. And now, slowing down, Matt and I could hear the digging—shovel hitting rock. Rounding the bend, we saw Fitch.

He was standing in the granite crevice that had been Eloise’s—and almost Iris’s—grave. He seemed to be scraping away bits of dirt, leaves, and moss that the wind had blown in. Nature had done most of the digging for him—it was a five-foot-deep fissure scored in the rock ledge by the last glacier. But there he was, excavating the grave, ready to bury his notes and equipment. Evidence.

“Hi, Fitch,” I said.

He looked over at us, barely any expression on his face, and kept working. Why had he come back here? Didn’t he realize this would be one of the first places law enforcement would look for him? Now that Iris’s story was out, this would be a crime scene again, as it had been after Eloise’s murder.

“You shouldn’t bother with burying all that,” I said. “The police are going to find everything.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Nothing matters now.”

“Give it up, Fitch,” Matt said.

“You’ve destroyed everything I’ve worked for,” Fitch said to me bitterly. “It was all for my sister.”

“What aboutmysister?” I asked.

“I told you, I am sorry for what happened. But I was doing something important, that would have saved people.”

“Are you thinking of Eloise right now?” I asked. “How you buried her right in that very spot, where you’re digging?”

“I’m thinking of Gale.”

“What about Iris? How you put her in that hole while she was still alive?” I asked.

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