“What do you mean it’s not him?”

“Give me some credit, Mickey. I thought that as soon as I saw him in person, but after talking to him for just these few seconds . . .” Ema turned back to him. “You’re not the guy who talked to me online, are you?”

“What? Sure I am. Jared Lowell. You saw my Facebook page.”

Ema shook her head. “Yes, Jared, it was your Facebook page. And, yes, you clearly knew about it. But it wasn’t you, was it?”

“What are you talking about?” He tried to laugh it off, but it wasn’t happening. “Of course it’s me. Look, we had something. It was great, I guess, but it was just online. It wasn’t real.”

“Quick: What’s your favorite color?”

“Uh, blue.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Pizza.”

“What’s your favorite place?”

“The hidden cove on the west side of this island.”

The color drained from Ema’s face. “Oh no . . .”

“What?” I said.

She turned to me. “He got that last one right.”

“So?” I was confused. “Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he was the one—”

“He got the color wrong. He got the food wrong. Don’t you see?”

Jared started to walk past us. “Look, I got a ferry to catch.”

I put my hand against his chest. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Jared Lowell looked down at my hand. “You serious?”

“Don’t move, Jared.”

“Who do you think—?”

“Don’t. Move.”

He heard the tone, raised his hands, and stayed where he was. Ema folded at the waist as though someone had punched her in the stomach. I hurried toward her. “Ema?”

“Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“His favorite place. It was someplace on this island.”

“So?”

“So if it wasn’t him, who else do we know who would know this island?”

Now I was the one who looked horror stricken. “No,” I said.

She nodded.

“It can’t be,” I said.

“But it has to be,” Ema said. “It was Buck. Buck was the one I met online.”

CHAPTER 39

Jared sat between Ema and me. His head was lowered in his hands.

“It started out as a prank,” he said. “I didn’t like the idea. I didn’t want to be part of it at all.”

He kept his head in his hands. Ema kept looking off, lost in thought, trying to put all the pieces together. She had been so sure that the feelings were real, and yet now she knew that it was a ruse by her longtime nemesis. It wasn’t computing for her.

“So you know Buck,” I said.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“He’s my cousin. Our moms are sisters. They both grew up on this island. When Aunt Ina met Uncle Boris, she moved to Kasselton. My family stayed here. Buck and I spent every summer together on this island. After the divorce, Aunt Ina moved back here.”