Lindsay was frozen in place, unable to find her words. When she realized that she was face-to-face now with her friend, she also realized just how certain she had been that she would never see Hope again. Hope looked pale and exhausted. She had also lost several pounds and was apparently trying to disguise herself with a low bun and a navy-blue Montauk baseball cap. But she was here, alive.

Hope threw her arms around Lindsay’s shoulders, and Lindsay returned the hug. Hope was the one to let go first, moving into the bedroom.

Lindsay noticed her friend’s gaze pause on the open journal on the bed. “I’m sorry. I was looking for anything that might explain what happened to you.”

Hope’s eyes moved to the row of journals still neatly shelved together, then nodded. Did she know which entry Lindsay had intruded upon? Did she understand why?

“Hope, where have you been?” Lindsay asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been hiding at one of the rental houses Evan manages. I told you not to look for me,” she said, shaking her head.

“So those texts were from you.”

“Of course. I even mentioned the armoire. It’s a reference from, literally, the last time I saw you. Remember? When we left the armoire at the Becketts’?”

“I thought if someone had been watching us move, they could have known. And I didn’t understand why you’d tell me not to look for you—”

“Because I didn’t want to be found, Lindsay. And I didn’t want you to be in danger. I thought I could figure it out by myself. I thought I could find out what he wanted and why, and then it would all be okay. But now . . .” She closed her eyes and exhaled. “He’s dead. How is he possibly dead? They said I’m wanted on TV.”

“They only said they were looking for you. As a witness. Someone who might have relevant information.”

Hope clenched her jaw and held her gaze. “Are you honestly telling me as a defense attorney that I don’t need to be scared right now?”

Lindsay looked away and shook her head. “So do you know this Alex Lopez person?” she eventually asked, her voice low.

“No!” Hope cried out. “At least, I don’t think so. Or I mean, I didn’t. But I think I know who he is now. And I hit him. I like basically stabbed him, and now they think I killed him.”

Lindsay led Hope to the sofa. “Sit down, and start from the beginning.”

It took a few false starts, Hope getting bogged down in details Lindsay couldn’t follow, but she finally steered Hope in a clear direction. “You said in your journal a couple of times that you thought someone was following you. Someone in a white pickup. Was that Alex Lopez?”