To his friends and grandmother Jasper was a sweetheart, but he had no love for Norton. According to Abella, Jasper was inexplicably rude to Norton on the dock. In her bedroom Camilla suggested her grandchildren should cut Norton some slack, but it was Jasper she’d been talking about. He alone was concerned with Norton’s behavior. Either he didn’t like how close Norton and his grandmother had become, or he sensed Norton was acting strange and got wary.

Even though she never got the chance to tell me, I think Abella sensed it, too. I’d concluded she and Jasper had argued because of the way Jasper was treating Norton. The photos Jade took of them in the hall, both with and without the caretaker, confirmed it. In spite of Abella’s desire to stay on her new boyfriend’s good side, she’d called him out on his discourteous behavior. It wasn’t until later on, when she witnessed firsthand the level of control Norton had over Camilla, that she understood Jasper’s paranoia about his Nana’s trusted companion was warranted.

I knew Norton would run when he saw an opening, for the simple reason that he didn’t belong in this world. It was instinct driving him now, the pure, animal need to flee—not just from Tim and me, but all the Sinclairs. I knew what that felt like. I’d run, too. But Norton was desperate, and he had Jade. She didn’t hesitate to go with him. Leave her father and take off. No, Jade wasn’t a hostage.

That didn’t make her safe.

I reached the river’s edge and wiped water from my eyes. The gun’s grip felt like it was bathed in oil. I squeezed it harder. There was no tracking their footprints. The ground was the same mix of rock and wild grass as the yard up by the house, every blade pounded flat by the rain. The island was large and wooded, and looping to the right would take me nowhere. Only the boathouse lay to the left, and there was nothing there for Norton now, but it seemed the better choice. I hugged the shoreline, pushing through a cluster of trees that thrashed wildly in the high wind. The branches slashed my cheek as I passed and I felt the piercing bite of torn flesh. At the sensation, my memory flickered. I remembered a long, rusty nail gripped tight by a hand as familiar to me as my own, and gagged when I recalled how it punctured my skin and made a breakneck journey across my face. But that pain was old, and I couldn’t dwell on it now. I ran on.

As I reached the outer limits of the island, I thought again about how much damage Bram and Carson had done. Norton was right in front of me all day, but I didn’t trust myself enough to connect the dots. I couldn’t tell good from bad until the truth was presented on a fucking platter. I can’t even see a man for what he is when I look into his eyes and accept a ring.