Page 90 of Our Darkest Summer
I exhaled sharply and straightened. “Alright. So we need a plan.”
Thomas nodded, his jaw ticking slightly. “A very sharp one at that.”
I studied him, watching the way his fingers flexed on the wheel, the way his expression remained unreadable even when his mind was probably working through the same puzzle as mine.
“How are you so calm?” I asked, tilting my head.
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on the road, his grip steady. Then— “I’m not.”
The weight of those two words settled between us, heavier than I expected. He wasn’t calm either. He was just holding everything together a lot better than I was.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken thoughts.
I drummed my fingers against my thigh. “What do we actually know?”
Thomas inhaled through his nose. “We know Hyacinth Jenson Bowman changed her name to Heather Jones. We know she witnessed her husband’s death in a fire, then sometime after 2000, she moved from Bellford to Coldwater.”
I nodded as Thomas pulled onto the side road leading to the Rhodes’ house.
“But we also know from Kevin that she died a few months ago. Meaning she can’t be the one behind this.” I hesitated. “Which leaves Samantha as our strongest lead. But as you said, we can’t fixate on her without concrete proof. So, we have to make sure. How do we do that?”
Thomas parked the car, then turned fully toward me. “We make them come to us.”
I narrowed my eyes.We make them come to us.
Realization sank in—quiet, heavy, and cold, like a stone dropping into water. “You want to set a trap.”
He nodded, his dark gaze glinting.
“And how exactly?” My pulse thrummed.
“The same way they tried to scare us away.” His voice was quiet but razor-sharp. “We send a message.”
A message.My mind turned over the idea.About what?What did they want besides us being gone? I turned the thought over, the pieces clicking together.Joshua.They sent the letter to him after all.
“They wanted Joshua here,” I breathed, my pulse kicking up.
Thomas’ lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “And we give them exactly that.”
The weight of the plan settled between us.
We had to do this the right way. We don’t accuse.
We trap.
A sharp ping echoed in the car, and I glanced down.
A party. Crowded space, lots of witnesses. My grip tightened around my phone.
“I think I have the perfect place for the setup.”
???
Two minutes later, Connor leaned against the hood of the car, arms crossed, watching us with confusion.
“Why exactly did I have to come out here?”
“We have a plan,” I said, maybe a little too excitedly.
