Page 27 of Rainshadow

“Maybe,” said Flora, thinking about what a coincidence it was that she had just told Ethan about Matt only a few nights before.

Then, she felt a tingly feeling as she remembered the waiter, and how he had been killed the night they’d eaten at Deer Harbor.

She shook off the creepy, irrational feeling, the wordevilfloating through her mind.

“I have to shop and get back,” Flora said to Debbie.

“Of course, right,” Debbie said, “but hey, we’re so understaffed. I thought maybe that now?—”

“I have a job,” Flora said, cutting her off. “Sorry. I work out at Rainshadow.”

“The horse farm?” Debbie asked, confused. “I didn’t know anyone even lived there.”

“Yep. Sorry, I need to get back,” Flora said again, pulling herself away.

Walking back along the highway an hour later, a familiar yellow VW Bug sputtered up beside her.

“Let me drive you back,” Blythe said, leaning over the passenger side seat to call from the cracked window.

“I’m fine,” Flora said.

Blythe rolled her eyes. “Get in the car, Flora, I need to talk to you.”

Flora didn’t want to talk to Blythe, but the ride home was too convenient to pass up. Her shoulders were already aching from carrying her groceries in her backpack.

They drove in silence for a moment before Blythe spoke. “I was hoping you’d come see me.”

“Why?” Flora said. “Last time I saw you, you weren’t exactly friendly.”

“I was trying to warn you,” Blythe said. “Something evil has come to the island, and it moved in to Rainshadow.”

“You sound crazy. Everyone talking about evil sounds crazy. There’s no evil. I’m not evil, and Sylvia’s just a regular run-of-the-mill bitch.”

Blythe looked at her.

“Sylvia?” Blythe said. “The woman?”

“Who else?”

“There is someone else at Rainshadow.”

“Ethan,” Flora said, her heart doing a little tumble at the chance to say his name. “But he… if anything, he’s, like, a victim of Sylvia.”

“A victim?” Blythe looked genuinely confused.

“Sylvia’s just, I don’t know, really… difficult.”

“And Ethan is… her husband?”

“No, they’re not married,” Flora said, a little too quickly.

“But he’s the owner of the house.”

“I think so, yeah.”

Blythe seemed to be chewing her lip for a moment, thinking. “Look, Flora, I’ve debated how much to tell you, what I should tell you.”

“Ok…”

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