by Paula Stokes
“Shit.” I push through the crowd, heading for the lobby of the community center. Unknown didn’t get me here so we could both confess. You haven’t suffered enough. They just wanted to humiliate me.
The staircase leading to the second floor is empty. I race to the door. A figure in a gray hoodie is running across the street toward the beach access parking lot. The figure runs full speed down the paved ramp.
I do my best to follow, but by the time I’ve made it down to the sand, the figure is nowhere to be seen. There are at least two sets of private beach access stairs they could have gotten to, leading to two different levels of Puffin Hill. I pick the closest one and hurry toward it, but that’s when I hear my mom screaming my name.
I look back and forth between the beach access parking lot that my mom is hobbling across and the set of stairs leading up to Puffin Hill. Wherever Unknown went, I lost them . . . for now. Better to turn back and make sure my mom is okay.
We meet at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the beach parking lot.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I start. “I know I screwed up big-time.”
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“No. I need to find out who played that video. It’s the person who’s been blackmailing me.”
“Mrs. O’Riley would know, wouldn’t she?” Mom says. “Isn’t she the one who hires the support staff?”
“Yeah, but I seriously doubt she’s here tonight. The O’Rileys are . . . dealing with some family stuff,” I say. I want to tell my mom about Luke, but I already broke Frannie’s confidence once by telling Holden.
“Well, then you should let the police handle it,” Mom says. “Blackmail is a crime.”
“Yeah, I know.” I’m pissed at myself for letting Unknown get away, but at least going to the police means a better chance of catching them. “Are you okay?” I ask her. “How’s your leg?”
“It hurts, but the hospital gave me some pain medication, so I’ll survive.”
Movement up on the street catches my eye. There are a couple of silhouettes outside the Three Rocks Community Center. “That was my father, right? In the brown jacket? Or did I hallucinate him? It’s entirely possible the last few days have driven me insane.”
“No, he’s still inside,” Mom says. “He didn’t think you’d want to see him right now.”
“I’m not sure I want to see anyone ever again,” I say.
“I know what that’s like.” Mom wraps an arm around me, gives me a half hug.
“Is that why you’re not yelling at me?”
“I’d like to hear the whole story before I do any yelling. Though I will say I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me the truth about the fire.”
“I was going to tell you, I swear,” I say. “I mean, at first I wasn’t because I was afraid the cost to repair the Sea Cliff would bankrupt us. But then all this shit happened and I realized I should have just told the truth anyway, but that was this morning at the hospital and then we got interrupted and later you looked so tired. . . .”
My mom sighs. “Oh, Embry. You should have come to me much earlier.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I messed up royally. I just don’t want my mistakes to hurt you.” Tears leak out of my eyes. “I feel like I’m going to ruin your life even worse now than I did when I was born.”
“Embry!” My mom’s voice is full of concern. It just makes me feel worse, because I’m the one who should be feeling concerned right now. “You did not ruin my life!”
“It’s okay. Gram told me the whole story of what happened.” I make a halfhearted attempt to wipe away the tears. “I know everyone started treating you badly because of me.”
“Everyone started treating me badly because of things I did,” my mom says. “Your father and me. You were just an innocent bystander, sweetie. Please tell me you know that.”
I turn away, look out at the ocean. “It’s hard not to think about how much better your life could have been without me.”
“No,” my mom says emphatically. “You saved me, Embry.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to say that. I know things have would been easier if . . .” I trail off.
Mom takes me by the shoulders and turns me so I’m facing her. “Easier, maybe. But not better. You were the thing that made all the pain worth it. Without you to think about, the sadness would’ve eaten me alive.” Mom cradles my face in her hands. She wipes my tears away with her thumbs. “You saved me,” she says again. “Even this summer—you gave me a reason to keep fighting, to never give up hope.”
“Really?” I never thought of it like that, that my being born was actually a good thing.
“Really,” Mom says. “You were my everything from the moment I found about you. I never regretted bringing you into this world for a single second.”
I throw my arms around my mom’s neck and embrace her tightly. “I love you,” I say. “You’re the best mom ever.”
“I try,” Mom says. “And whatever trouble you’ve gotten into, we’ll figure it out together. We figured out how to survive without Grandma. We figured out how to beat cancer. We can deal with this too, okay?”
I nod, but I’m not sure I believe her. I mean, I believe that we can figure it out, just not without losing something really important to her, like the coffee shop or the house. Not unless the Murray family will let me pay them back over the next hundred years or so.
I furrow my brow. “Where’s Holden? I sent him to pick you up in Tillamook.”
“I know. I got your message, but your father showed up in the meantime, and when Holden hadn’t arrived by five-forty-five, I went ahead and took a ride with your dad. I left a message for Holden at the ER front desk.”
“I’ll text him in case he’s still looking for you. If it’s okay with you, I just need a little time to myself.”
“Sure,” Mom says. “See you back at home?”
“Will my father be there?”
“Not if you don’t want him to. I shouldn’t have invited him to the party without asking you. He was just so thrilled at the idea of watching you receive an award. I figured he could lurk in the back, watch you, and sneak out and you’d never know.”
“Yeah, I guess I messed that up for him.”
Mom ruffles my hair. “Definitely not the presentation he was expecting, but he’s not in any position to judge.”
“True.”
Mom wraps me in a hug. “Be careful,” she says. “We’ll talk more when you get home.”
“Okay.” I watch her limp her way back up the stairs.
Mom disappears from view, and I turn to the ocean. I walk out toward the water and then make my way down to the end of the beach, to the Pot Hole. The tide is rising, the cave starting to fill with water. For a moment I imagine ducking inside the dark opening, letting the waves sweep in and take me out to sea, or perhaps trap me in the cave and drown me. I’ve really made a mess of things the past few months.
But I can’t just give up. Not now, when I’m almost free. I told the truth to everyone and the police should be able to identify Unknown from the security footage from the computer lab. It’s over, or at least it will be soon.
And then my phone buzzes with a text.
Thirty-Seven
Unknown: Nice job with the mayor.
My fingers tremble as I compose a reply.
Me: Glad you enjoyed it. I was hoping you might join me onstage, but I should have known you’d go back on your promise.
Unknown: I’m not going back on it. I’m going to turn myself in. But first I have a surprise for you.
Me: Hard pass. I did what you wanted, so just leave me and the people I care about alone, okay?
Unknown: Don’t you want to know who I am?
Me: If I say yes, are you going to tell me?
Unknown: No, but I was thinking we could meet up somewhere, talk face to face. Don’t you have questions?
Me: Again, pass. I’m trying to be less destructive to myself and every
one around me.
Unknown: Since when?
Me: Since my best friend and my mom both ended up in the ER.
Unknown: Don’t you want to know how I got to your boyfriend?
Me: He wasn’t my boyfriend. And no, not unless you show me how to make him magically come back to life.
Unknown: Well, not exactly. But you can still save the life of his little sister.
The next text is a picture of Frannie. She’s sitting on a chair in a room. I know that room. It’s the lobby of the Sea Cliff Inn. Peering closer, I see that her hands and ankles are tied. There’s a piece of tape over her mouth. Her eyes are wide with fear.
Me: WTF is this? We had a deal. You promised no one else would get hurt.
Unknown: She won’t get hurt . . . as long as you make the right choice.
Unknown: A. Come to the Sea Cliff Inn alone. If you do this, I will kill a murderer.
B. If you don’t come, or if you bring the police, I will kill a girl named Frannie.
Unknown: You have fifteen minutes. Choose wisely.
Me: You’ll kill a murderer? What does that mean? Are you going to commit suicide?
Unknown: I guess if you want to know, I’ll see you soon.
Me: Screw that. I’m calling the police.
Unknown: It’s your choice, but there’s no way the police can make it to the Sea Cliff without me seeing them. If I see so much as a flashing light on Puffin Drive or a single officer creeping toward the door, I’ll strangle Frannie O’Riley with her brother’s dog tags.
Me: You are one twisted fuck.
Unknown: Thirteen minutes. Tick tock.
I shove the phone deep into my pocket. “Fuck!” I shout. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I kick at the nearest rock, sending pebbles spraying across the beach.
Unknown is right about the police. The top of Puffin Hill is accessible only by Puffin Drive, unless the cops are going to scale the side of the cliff, which they’re not.
I head for the nearest set of stairs—it belongs to a trio of time-share condos located halfway up the hill. I pause on the way, bending down to run my fingers across the smooth stones littering the beach. I find one with a sharp edge that fits neatly in my hand. It’s not much of a weapon, but it’s better than nothing. Unknown has never threatened my life—just everyone else’s—so hopefully I won’t need it. All I can think about is rescuing Frannie and then turning myself in. Telling the truth hurt—it hurt with Julia, with Luke, and at the party tonight. But there’s also a sense of relief. As terrified as I am to turn myself in to the police, I know it’s the right thing to do. As my feet pound the wooden steps, it occurs to me there’s one more person I need to be honest with tonight. I pause halfway up the stairs to dial Holden’s number.
“Embry.” His voice is breathless. “I’m so glad you called. Is your mom okay? The nurse said she checked out with a strange man.”
“Yeah, it was my father. Long story. Look. I’m on my way to the Sea Cliff. Unknown has Frannie. I’m not sure what’s going to happen, but I can’t let them kill her. I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”
“I, what?” Holden says, clearly taken aback.
“I love you, Holden. That’s why I’ve been so weird lately. I was coming to terms with that, and what it meant. I’m not saying it’s enough. I’m not saying we should be together. I’m saying I’ve spent my whole life hiding parts of myself. You were right about my abandonment issues, but I’m not just afraid of people leaving me physically. I’m afraid of them pulling away emotionally, that if I let people see who I am they’ll decide that I don’t deserve love. But you make me feel like I do deserve love, and I can’t even lie anymore. I love you. I think maybe I have for a while. Now, finally, everyone knows the truth. And now I’ve got to go end this.”
“I love you too,” Holden says. “But are you at home right now? There are a couple things I need to show you. The first one is that license plate you asked me about. It’s registered to—”
“Patrick Ryder?” I say.
“Yeah, how did you—”
“He’s my father,” I say. “Long story. Whatever the other thing is, it’s going to have to wait. I only have nine minutes to get there.”
“Did you call the police?”
“You know I can’t do that. There’s no way they can make it to the top of Puffin Hill without Unknown seeing them. If they see cops, cop cars, even flashing lights on the hill, Frannie might die.”
“I’m still in Tillamook, but I can call my mom and tell her—”
“No, Holden. Unknown will see her coming.”
“They can drive an unmarked car, you know. Be sneaky.”
“Okay, but what if they’re not? I can’t chance it. Don’t you get it? Luke is dead because of me. I can’t take any more deaths on my conscience.”
“Actually, what I wanted to show you has to do with Luke,” Holden says. “I was looking—”
“I don’t have time for this. I’m sorry. If anything happens to me, look out for my mom, okay?”
“Wait. Does it make sense that—”
I can’t try to make sense of anything right now. There’s no time, and I’m barely holding it together as it is. I disconnect the phone and stuff it back into my pocket. I take the rest of the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding in my chest, my breath whistling in my throat.
When I finally make it to the top of the stairs, I turn left and run along the edge of the road as fast as I dare. The snow from this morning has melted, leaving the concrete wet and slippery. It’s just slick enough to make my footing unsure. I check my phone when I’m about a block away from the Sea Cliff. Three minutes left. I debate stopping to text Unknown to say I’m almost there, but I decide to just press on. Unknown doesn’t seem like the type of person who will give me a margin for error.
My feet land on the front porch of the Sea Cliff at exactly one minute before the deadline. Another text pops up on my screen:
Unknown: The present is for you.
There’s a wrapped package just off to the side of the porch. It’s tucked halfway behind the shrubbery. I might not have even noticed it without the text.
“Where are you?” I ask. “What is this?”
No answer. Reluctantly I reach down for the box, praying that I won’t open it to find someone’s head inside. My hands fumble with the bow. I rip the rest of the paper and open the box. There, nestled on a bed of tissue paper, is a handgun. There’s a note beside it. The handwriting looks vaguely familiar.
Last choice:
Kill yourself, and she lives.
Refuse, and she dies.
You have fifteen seconds to choose.
Thirty-Eight
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” I shout. “Where’s Frannie?”
Reluctantly, I trade the rock I’ve been carrying for the gun. Holding it down by my side, I step into the darkened hotel. The chair she was sitting in is lying on its side in the middle of the lobby, the ropes that once bound her a snarl of coils on the burned carpet. Maybe she managed to escape.
“Frannie?” I call up the stairs. “Are you in here?”
There’s no reply. I blink rapidly. The air burns my eyes. I pass from the lobby into the back—the kitchen and dining area. It’s been more than fifteen seconds, but still no sign of anyone. And then something moves in the fog outside. My fingers tighten around the gun as I push through the back door out onto the grass.
Frannie is standing at the edge of the cliff, her back to me. Her clothes and hair are mussed, like maybe she just escaped.
“Fran, thank God.” As I hurry toward her, she spins around. She also has a gun in her hand.
I skid to a stop. “What are you doing? It’s me, Embry.” I glance around, looking for Unknown. “Where’s the person who brought you here?”
“No one brought me here. I brought you here,” Frannie says. “So we could finish this.”
“Finish what?” My eyes drop to the ground, to the gray Rendon hiking boots Frannie is w
earing. My brain struggles to make sense of what is right before my eyes. Frannie must have followed Holden and me that night. She made the email address and sent the video only to the senior class because she probably figured it’d throw suspicion away from her. Somehow she poisoned Julia—maybe she spiked her water bottle in the locker room or something. And my mom—my lower lip trembles just thinking about it. Frannie tried to kill her.
But if Frannie is Unknown, does that mean she killed her own brother? Or was that just a lie so she could lure me here by myself and try to goad me into committing suicide?
I take in a deep breath and try to analyze her expression and body language. Her chin is raised and her eyes are sharp with defiance, but her shoulders are also slumped forward, as if she’s just as tired as I am. Is she capable of shooting me? I don’t know.
Taking a step back, I say, “Look. I heard you’ve been buying stuff from Matt Sesti. I don’t know what you’re taking, but I can help you. Everything is going to be okay. Just please put the gun down.”
Frannie laughs. The gun trembles in her hand. “You’re such a liar, Embry. You’re lying to me just like you lied to Luke. My brother is dead. Nothing is ever going to be okay again, don’t you get it?”
“He’s really dead?” I swallow hard. “But you didn’t, I mean, I know you wouldn’t hurt him . . . so what happened?”
Frannie’s jaw tightens. “What happened is you lied to him and betrayed him.”
“I don’t understand,” I say. My eyes skim the surrounding area, the shrubbery, the frozen grass, the edge of the cliff. There’s nowhere for me to hide, no escape from her gun.
“Why did you do it? Why did you leave him for some other guy?” Her voice wavers. A tear trickles down one of her cheeks.
She looks so miserable that for a second I look past the fact she’s pointing a gun at me, past the idea that this sixteen-year-old girl who once told me I was like a sister to her has apparently been stalking and terrorizing me. “I—shit. It’s hard to explain.”
Frannie cocks the gun. The expression on her face goes cold. “Try,” she says.
“Luke is—was—amazing,” I say. “Not just to me, but to everybody. When we first started dating, I let myself get swallowed up by his goodness, you know? He was everything I needed in my world—stability, kindness, loyalty, bravery.”