His door closes. Quietly I return to the bed and am about to climb in, when I pause. Changing my mind, I go to the window. The heather is a dark blur, the Sabathian house even darker. Memories of this knock at the door of my mind, good ones right up until the end. So many nights I stood watch at this spot, eyes glued to the second floor window, wondering if Jack was awake and would signal. Standing here now, I have a clear vision of his Maglite’s burst—three-one-one, repeated twice in quick succession.

It is a minute before I realize that I’m not imagining it.

Chapter 7

I hold my breath. The signal comes again.

Quickly, silently, I pull my Bay Bluff sweatshirt over the loose tee I sleep in and hop into sweatpants, one leg, then the other. Flip-flops in hand, I tiptoe to the door, open it carefully and, after checking to be sure Joy is still asleep, inch it closed.

Avoiding creaks, my bare feet whisper down the stairs and run lightly through the kitchen and mudroom to the side door, the one we always took to the beach. It isn’t until the cool air hits me that I stop dead still.

This has all been pure habit, true muscle memory. From the time I was fifteen and found Jack, until I was nineteen and left home, I responded to that light. Now, at thirty-nine, I wonder what in the hell I’m doing. The signal? Our signal? After all this time, all this acrimony? If I go down to the beach, what do I hope to find?

I don’t know. That’s the thing.

But I had seen his light. And there is no way I can not respond.

Slipping on my flip-flops, I walk along the side path at a more adult pace, giving myself plenty of time to rethink what I’m doing. But I can’t find a reason to turn back. If I’ve misinterpreted the signal, I’ll be alone on the beach. If not, well, I’ll find out why he sent it in the first place.

The moon is a slim cradle that comes and goes through fingers of clouds. Though there’s enough light to see, I hold the railing as I take the stairs, because my eyes aren’t on my feet. They’re searching the beach. It isn’t until I’m at the bottom and starting toward the Sabathian side that a dark figure takes shape at the end. Fortunately, he’s well before the outcropping of rocks that used to hide us from the world. I’m not sure I could have dealt with those particular memories.