I stared at the boat. It drifted closer now, too far for me to make out a face, but near enough that I could see the silhouette of the figure holding the light.
It could be her.
Or it could be someone else, someone who knew about our code.
I hesitated, my oars floating idle in the water. The lodge behindme was no longer an option. A body under my stairs, the fuse box deliberately destroyed, and a shadowed figure still standing on shore—waiting. Watching. I’d escaped once. I might not get another chance.
So I rowed away.
Away from the second boat. Away from the figure on the dock.
But every pull of the oars sent me further into the open water, more exposed, more vulnerable. Panic clawed its way up my throat.
And then…
I wasn’t on this lake anymore.
I was fifteen again.
It was the Fourth of July.
Fireworks burst above in the sky, red and gold sparkling across the sky, their reflections dancing on the lake. The air smelled of smoke and lake water and summer. I was out in this very rowboat, halfway between the Bishop house and the lodge.
But that night, Livvie came alone, and she wasn’t smiling.
She was crying.
I could barely make her out as her little boat drifted closer. I flashed my light twice—meet me halfway. But she shook her head.
I remember the fear in her eyes. I tried to read her lips in the dark. She had no flashlight.
“Becca took my flashlight.”
I frowned and signed, “What? Why?”
“I don’t want you to come over,” she signed, hands trembling.
“Why not?” I mouthed. “What’s wrong?”
She pointed back to the Bishop house. Something there. Someone.
I could see it on her face—terror. Whatever it was, she was too afraid to say. She didn’t want me to see. Didn’t want me to come. But I gave her my flashlight to get back safely, holding it out across the dark water and letting her take it.
Then I turned my boat around and rowed home alone.
That was the last time I saw Livvie alive.
Her body was found the next day, floating in the middle of the lake. They said she slipped. Drowned.
But I always wondered.
And now, here I was, in the same place, the same water, only this time, I was the one trying to decide where to go.
The boat ahead flashed the code once more.
Come over.
I stared, hands tightening around the oars.