“I don’t go down that easy,” Mia said.

The fluorescent light over Mia flickered, then went dead, the whole room going softer with it, shadows slipping in where there’d been only harshness before. Mia licked dry, cracked lips, and Izzy knew she wanted to ask. Knew she wouldn’t.

“I thought about believing her. About you,” Izzy said, the truth as her penance.

“You thought about it,” Mia repeated without placing particular emphasis on any of the words.

“She was good.” Izzy swallowed before plunging in. “And you’re still hiding something.”

“I promised I’d tell you the truth,” Mia said, the weak smile accompanying it showing an awareness of the way she’d just dodged a question Izzy hadn’t even bothered asking.

Izzy dropped it, because Izzy had made her point. And when it came down to it, she’d decided to trust Mia. “The doubt . . . it was only for a minute.”

Mia slid a little farther down into the bed, her eyes staying closed longer each time she blinked. She’d be out soon. “She was good,” Mia parroted. A forgiveness, and gratitude, maybe. For letting her keep her secrets.

Footsteps rushed by outside the door, and Mia waited for them to pass. “You got her, right?” The question was slurred, a last thought at the edge of sleep. This time when she went to blink, her eyes stayed closed.

“Head shot right after she pulled the trigger,” Izzy said. She probed at that, a grubby finger nudging at the ripped edges of a wound to check just how deep it went. But there was only relief there. A monster had been taken out of the world. Maybe it wasn’t her place to play the judge and jury, but sometimes you had to live in the gray areas that provided the best net outcome for humanity.

“Good,” Mia said, her face reflecting the same satisfaction. “She would have gotten out of it somehow.”

The words were barely out before Mia slipped back into unconsciousness.

Izzy sat guard a little longer, content to live in the space between the beeps.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

MIA

Black Rock Bay, Maine
Friday, February 22

Mia stood on the deck of the ferry as St. Lucy’s slowly materialized from the mist, as was her tradition. She was alone this time, hadn’t told Izzy she was going back.

There were only a few other passengers belowdecks, and she doubted they were getting off at the island.

No one bothered her.

Like a month earlier, the cliffs came into view first, then the Bell mansion on the north end. It would be only a few more minutes before she’d see the lighthouse.

Her thumb found her scar, and she still felt Lacey’s lips there, against her skin. Maybe she always would.