She took out her phone and set it on the table.

The FBI had been working the case from the beginning. But they hadn't even gotten a call from the kidnappers. That was extremely strange in a situation like the one the media had been trying to paint.

Nicky clicked to her FBI database, and she saw that there was little information on the case. Although Senator Gregory had said there was "intelligence," it clearly hadn't been put in the database yet. Nicky couldn't deny her gnaw of curiosity. What type of intelligence was this, and where did it come from?

How did they know if Meghan Salinger was really still alive?

Taking another drink, she felt her head grow hot. Nicky lay back on the couch and pressed her head deep into a decorative pillow, staring up at the stucco ceiling.

Being an FBI agent was in her blood. It had been her calling for years, but sometimes, she felt like it was too much. Nicky was in this to save people, not see them die. Her rational mind knew that losses, deaths, unfortunately came with the territory. But she just didn't want to hunt down another missing girl with the hope she was still alive, only to find her dead in the most brutal way.

It was a lot to bear. Nicky shut her eyes, hoping the darkness would help block out the images of Masie's body.

Before she realized it, she was drifting away. And soon...

Nicky's eyes popped open.

She found herself back at the lake house. But this time, things were different.

Nicky was younger. This was her sixteen-year-old self, wearing a striped tee and jeans. And she was alone with Rosie.

A storm brewed in the distance.

Nicky and her sister were on the beach, watching the water, like they'd done all those years ago. There was a moment of calm, and everything was quiet. Then a wave came, crashing against the sands, and Nicky turned to Rosie. "Do you think the lake remembers?"

Rosie shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Nicky turned toward the lake. "I think it does. I think that's why people come here... they want to remember, even though they know they can't."

Rosie nodded. It was as though she knew what Nicky was thinking.

Then a gust of wind made Rosie's hair whip around her face. "I better get going," she said.

No. Nicky didn't want her to go. She reached out for her.

"Please, stay," Nicky said.

Rosie's eyes softened on hers. Behind her was an expanse of blue.

"I will, on one condition," Rosie said.

"What is it?"

"Nicky..." Rosie's eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Those girls, Nicky. You have to..."

Then the wind picked up, and the rain was coming down. Nicky turned back to the lake and she saw a dozen bodies floating in the water.

And they all had Rosie's face.