Page 18 of Fire Island
I snap my gaze to his.
His face is twisted with worry, but something else wars with it.
Like there’s more at stake than just me.
The lighthouse?
Did something happen to the lamp?
“Nothing yet,” I say. It’s the truth.
“Sure. It’s just that I didn’t findanyoneon your island when I went over, Cal.Nobodywas there.”
Nobody else on my island is the status quo. What is he blithering about?
Five
EVIE
Big plans. Should have known they would go sideways at the first opportunity. After gaining an inch toward my freedom, Timothy threw Rapunzel back in the tower after he had his way, gawking at me through his release. And threw away the key, so to speak.
He hasn’t returned since the wee hours of the morning.
Apparently, my powers of seduction are a little rusty. Instead of the freedom—or at least a longer leash—I thought I would gain, I’m back in the lantern room, watching yet another sunset in captivity.
All I feel is dirty. Filthy from his gaze. Like I need to scrub myself clean with a wire brush and shed these layers of myself to the tub floor. As the ever-reliable whir and click of the lamp come on, I shield my eyes and reposition to face away from the retina-burning blazing light.
The breeze tangles through my hair as the light sweeps across my back, casting its iridescent brilliance over the Atlantic Ocean. The world is such an enormous place. I’m barely a blip on its surface. One that will come and go, never to be noticed by Mother Nature.
Noticed.
Who would notice a light shining?
Who would notice one that doesn’t?
The watchhouse? The shipping lanes to the east of Fire Island...
Crawling, I hunt for some way to shut the lamp off. The chain to my cuffed hands drags as I crawl my way along the floor. Timothy said he wouldn’t take the last piece of Cal... Because it would be missed?
Not by me.
He meant the Coast Guard would realize it’s not coming on.
That’s it, my chance to signal for help. Or at the very least, to get someone—anyone—to come out here.
With both hands, I pry open the base, looking for something to break, snap, bend, or undo.
All I find is a bunch of wires.
Wires that no doubt run straight to the generator, and all that voltage.
Shit.
Knowing my luck, I’ll pull the wrong one and electrocute myself.
No thank you, I want to live. I want to leave this island on my own two feet, my heart beating safely in my chest.
The light sweeps around again—its timing never fails.
