Page 97 of Knot the Last Chapter

My breath catches.

The clue in the parlor.

My mind jumps back to that tiny etching of a crown. The one I thought was coordinates. But no—it had been a number. A combination. My eyes widen.

“The numbers are a combination,” I blurt.

Three heads turn toward me.

“It has to be!” I say, sitting up straighter. “And the crown and the rose… that’s where the combination needs to be added.”

Corwyn’s eyes light up. “Three clues together form the answer.”

“Exactly,” I say, heart pounding with excitement. “We have three clues. The numbers the combination. The rose beneath the nose…the crown…”

Rhys is already getting to his feet. “Crown was a huge popular safe company back in the day. So it’s the combination to a Crown safe. Now the question is…where’s the rose?”

“There are no roses on the island?” I ask.

“No,” Corwyn shakes his head. “And grandfather was very careful about his gardens. We’ve kept most of them intact. Mostly perennials.”

The wheels in my head are turning, and they won’t stop. “Any nasturtium flowers?”

“Yes!” Rhys exclaims. “A small patch. …but why them? They’re not roses?”

“No, but the rose could refer to the compass rose, so the direction…and nasturtiums are sometimes called ‘nose’ flowers because of their scent.”

“You’re fucking with us,” Tyler says, so genuinely that I giggle.

“I swear! Where are they? What is the compass, or the direction, is under the patch of flowers?”

“Let’s go,” Rhys says enthusiastically.

“Wait,” Tyler says, standing and offering me a hand. “It’s late.”

“I know,” I say, taking it and letting him help me up. “But I leave tomorrow. I don’t want to go without solving this. It feels like it belongs to all of us now.”

Corwyn grins. “We’ll grab the flashlights.”

“Don’t forget your comedy aprons,” I tease, earning a mock groan from all three.

We gather at the doorway, shoulder to shoulder, four puzzle pieces that—against all odds—fit.

Chapter fifty-seven

Rhys

We should be in bed. It’s past midnight, and the only thing louder than the old bones of this house creaking is the thrumming in my chest. But instead, we’re marching through the halls like we’re on some midnight heist, flashlights cutting across polished floors and shadows chasing behind us.

Lila walks between us, her oversized hoodie swallowing her hands, her braid bouncing gently with each step. She’s radiant—even under the harsh glare of Tyler’s ancient flashlight—and she’s practically humming with energy. Or maybe I’m just that attuned to her now. My body notices her before my brain can form a thought.

“This is the closest door to the gardens,” I tell Lila as Tyler opens the old side door, barely used. It’s not raining anymore, thankfully, and the winds have died down. It’s almost a magical night.

“Be careful not to trip. Or slip!” I caution. “Maybe we should wait until morning.”

“Come on, Rhys,” she says, bumping her shoulder into mine. “You want me to not solve the island’s biggest mystery? This could be the ending to my book.”

“If I fall and break a leg, I expect you all to bring me back in,” I mutter.

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