I was waist-deep in water now. Campbell was on one side of me, Sadie-Grace on the other. I twisted to look for Victoria and discovered that she was still on the shore. As I watched, she bent and retrieved something from behind the brush. It wasn’t until we’d all made it onto the boat that I realized what Victoria had gone back for.

“Here,” she said, handing a scarlet robe to me and one to Sadie-Grace. The gloves came next. “You’re shivering.”

I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or Sadie-Grace. The night air was warm, but still, with my clothes soaked through, I could feel goose bumps rising on my flesh.

Lily’s eyes flickered over the lot of us, over the robes and gloves in our hands. “Go ahead,” she told me. “Put them on.”

I did as she said, then met her eyes. “There’s something we have to tell you.” I glanced toward Walker. “Both of you.”

Before I could say more than that, Campbell stepped in front of me, literally coming between us. “How did you know where to find us, anyway?” she asked her brother.

I recognized an attempt to stall when I saw one.

“Victoria texted me,” Walker said.

“No, I didn’t.” Victoria took a few steps toward him, then stopped. She reached into the pocket of her robe. “My phone is gone. It doesn’t get reception out here anyway. . . .”

So who sent the text?

“Hope,” I said suddenly, answering my own question. “Do you think she got off the island?”

“With my phone?” Victoria said. “Sounds about right.” She turned back to Walker. “What exactly did this text say?”

I realized between one breath and the next what she was really asking. How much does Hope know? What did she see—and hear?

“The text just said there was an emergency.” Walker paused. “That it involved Sawyer and Lily’s mama, that you were all trapped on King’s Island, and I shouldn’t call the police.”

That didn’t exactly answer the question of how much Hope knew.

“So he called me,” Lily said. “And I called Lillian.”

“You came,” I said, feeling the weight of what I had to tell her a thousand times more.

“Of course I came,” Lily told me, sounding offended. She hesitated. “Is my mama okay?” she asked. “Victoria’s text—or Hope’s, I guess—was a little vague on the details.”

Because Hope didn’t know them? Or because she was being discreet?

“Details later,” I told her. “For now… your mama’s fine.” That was what Lillian would have called a bit of a stretch. “More or less.”

“I sense that this is a very long story,” Walker put in. “And based on how closely Campbell is standing to me right now, I have the general sense that it doesn’t have a happy ending.”

We have to tell them.