“Omigod,” I said again. “Omigodomigodomigod.”
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Darcy demanded.
I shoved myself up to my feet and ran, barreling down the steps. I stopped short when I saw the table by the door, bare. She’d taken the family picture. The only one I had of my mother, my father, Darcy, and me all together.
I was going to kill her.
Slamming the front door behind me, I ran for town. On Freesia, the guy on the bike with his surfboard swerved around me and crashed, but I didn’t care. I threw myself out onto Main Street and almost collided with someone’s chest.
“Rory!”
It was Joaquin. He held both my arms in a death grip as I bent toward him, heaving, gasping for air. At my toes, a long line of ants marched toward the curb.
“Where’s my father?” I begged. “Where’s my father, Joaquin? Where is he?”
I leaned past his shoulder, trying to get a look at the mayor’s house, needing to see.
“Rory,” he said, tugging me around in a circle, trying to put my back to the bluff. “Don’t. Just calm down. Just—”
“Get off me!” I screeched, shoving him so hard he fell to the sidewalk. For a split second, we both stared at each other, stunned. Then I turned to look.
There was the weather vane, gold and gleaming against the bright blue sky, sitting up with its proud swan, like its message was unimpeachable, like it had all the authority in the world.
And it was pointing south.
Evidence
“Where’re you going?” Joaquin asked as I sprinted away from him and started across town, my eyes so blurry I could barely see straight.
“It was Nadia,” I spat, keeping my eye on Tristan’s house. “I know it was. I’m going to tell Tristan and the mayor.”
“Rory, stop!” Joaquin shouted. He grabbed my arm as I reached the curb, and a car jammed on its brakes. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Just take a breath.”
“Take a breath?” I screamed, my heart splintering in my chest. “My father is in the Shadowlands! I can’t take a breath!”
Bea jogged up next to us. Her face was all red, and her hair was darker at the hairline, soaked with sweat. Fisher and Kevin were close behind, their jaws set, looking grim.
“What happened?” Bea demanded, gasping for air. “Where’s the fog?”
“Her dad was taken,” Joaquin told them, still holding on to my arm.
“What?” Kevin’s eyes were wide. “Who?”
“Nadia,” I said, gnashing my teeth.
“You’re kidding,” Bea replied.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Joaquin said placatingly.
“No. You don’t know that for sure.” I lowered my voice as two visitors strolled by, carefree, holding hands. “I know what I saw. She was at my window last night, watching us. Just waiting for us to fall asleep so she could take him.”
Tears welled up behind my eyes as I remembered the feeling of my father’s arm around me, my cheek resting against his chest. I fought as hard as I could to keep them at bay. I couldn’t break down right now. I had to help my father.
“Rory, I know you don’t like Nadia and she doesn’t like you,” Bea said. “But she would never do something like this. She lives for the rules almost as much as Tristan does.”
“It was her, Bea. I swear to you.” I looked up at Fisher’s mirrored sunglasses and he removed them, as if he sensed this was too important not to look me in the eye. For the first time all week, I knew exactly how I felt about him—I felt he could be useful. “Where does Nadia live?”
“What?” Fisher asked, glancing over at Joaquin. “Uh…down by the docks. Why?”
“Get her,” I said. “Go by yourself, take someone, whatever you want to do. Just get her.”
Fisher laughed nervously. “Um, okay. I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but I don’t take orders from—”
“Get her,” Joaquin grunted. Fisher stared at him. “Just go, Fish. The sooner we let her tell her side, the better off we’ll all be.”
“I’m on it,” Fisher said, and he ran off toward the bay.
“We’ll be at Tristan’s!” I shouted after him. Then I turned and speed-walked up the hill. Joaquin, Bea, and Kevin were right on my heels. I stared blearily at the weather vane.
My dad is in the Shadowlands. She sent him to the Shadowlands.
One sob burst from my lips, and I bit it back. I couldn’t think about that. Not now. If I thought about that, I would go down in a swirling black cloud of despair, and I couldn’t let that happen. I was my father’s only hope. Nadia was the key. If she’d sent him there, she had to know how to get him back. And if anyone could make her talk, it was the mayor.
The moment I crested the hill, I saw Cori and Pete sitting on the bench at the fork in the path, one trail leading back down the hill toward the beach, the other to the house. Two dirt bikes lay in the grass next to them. They both stood up as I approached.
“Stay away from me!” I shouted, veering toward the house.
“Where’s she going?” Cori asked behind me.
“She’s lost it,” Joaquin replied. “She thinks Nadia took her dad.”
“What?” Cori blurted.
“Where is she, anyway?” Bea asked as they all jogged to keep up with me.
“I don’t know,” Pete replied. “I haven’t seen her since the Swan on Thursday.”
I pressed my lips together, triumphant. I knew it. She’d even steered clear of her friends yesterday? It was her. It had to be her.
“Tristan! Mayor Parrish!” I hurried to the porch. I stumbled up the steps, and Krista opened the door.
“Rory! Are you okay?” she asked, stepping toward me.
“Where’s your mother?” I demanded. “Where’s Tristan?”
“Oh…uh…the mayor’s not here. But Tristan’s up in his room, I think,” she said hesitantly. “Why don’t you—”
I shoved past her and barreled up the stairs. I had to get to him. I needed him. I needed him to tell me he would help me fix this. That everything would be all right.
“Tristan!” I cried, my voice breaking. “Tristan!”
The door to his room was wide open. He wasn’t there, but sitting in the middle of his bed was a red drawstring bag, bottom heavy and bulbous. The sight of it, so odd and out of place, stopped me cold. I took in a deep, shaky breath as I heard the rest of the Lifers scramble up the stairs. Joaquin looked over my shoulder into the room.
“What is that?” he said.
“I don’t know,” Krista responded.
With the confidence of a person who’d been in this room ten million times before, Joaquin pushed between us and opened the bag. His face lost color so fast I thought he was going to faint. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with terror.
Everyone else froze. Bea and Kevin took two steps past me into the room, while Krista stayed rooted with me at the door. Cori and Pete hovered at the top of the stairs.
“What?” I breathed. “What’s wrong?”
Joaquin overturned the bag. Dozens upon dozens of fat gold coins rained out onto the bedspread, tinkling a happy song as they slid this way and that, forming a messy pile. Krista covered her mouth with both hands. Nadia leaned into the wall.
“Ho-ly. Shit,” Kevin said.
Then we all heard a footstep in the hallway.
“Rory?” Tristan’s voice said.
“Tristan, don’t,” Krista said.
But he’d already stepped into the room. His eyes focused on the pile of coins, and his face went slack.
“Tristan?” I said blearily.
“What the hell is going on?” Joaquin demanded.
Slowly, Tristan tilted up his chin. He gave me a long look. The depths of his beautiful blue eyes swirled with shock, with pain, with fear—and with guilt.