Page 68 of Fire Island
“That doesn’t line up. Why would Iris text you the day before it happened?”
“I know,” she whispers, like she understands something I don’t.
“Did Irry tell Em something was up?”
“No, Emmett was out on shift by the time I got here the next morning. I got Errol to bring me back to the island.”
I raise a brow at that.
“He said he wouldn’t stay, but I didn’t care. All I could think of was finding you.”
She didn’t. Find me, that is... by the feeling of dread that’s started to swell in my gut.
“The next part is hard to tell, because I’ve kept it a secret from every single person. For... six years.”
I need to sit down.
I pad to the wall and sink to my seat, leaning against the curved wall. I pat the floor by my side. “Come here.”
She tilts her head, her face twisting like she’s not sure I’ll want her there when I hear what’s about to come out of her mouth.
I don’t care what it is.
Nothing will stop me from loving this brave little woman.
Finally, she closes the space and sits beside me. Her head falls back onto the wall and her eyes close. She continues, “I have been receiving letters from a guy for six years. First off, they started out friendly, you know. And I was kind of excited to have such a great fan.” She huffs a sigh. “Around six months later, the letters started being inappropriate. Possessive in nature, I guessyou’d call it. Joshua and I were married six months later, and that’s when...”
The accident.
“My husband died.” Her words from the first time she shared this with me are like glass under my skin. I knew what she went through. I’d lived it myself.
I scoff a sadistic laugh at the thought.
Fucking Ava.
“Well, the letters kept coming. And just before Livvy sent me here, I’d received another one. So, I was happy to leave the city, thinking it would put an end to it. But he found me.”
“The mail Iris gave you the night of the festival...”
She nods.
“Fuck, baby. You should have told me.”
“I couldn’t.” Her gaze intensifies as she shakes her head. “He killed Joshua. That’s what was in the letter. A confession that read like a warning. And he knew you and I wer?—”
Her chin wobbles as the first tear spills over from the silver lining those beautiful eyes.
“He set that boat up to—” She rocks forward.
“That washim?”
She nods.
“Christ.”
I rub my hands down my face. “How does this fit with the Fresnel?”
Now, a sob chugs from her lips. I pull her onto my lap.
