Chapters (85)
- BOOKS BY LOUISE BAY
- ONE
- Rosey
- TWO
- Byron
- THREE
- Rosey
- FOUR
- Byron
- FIVE
- Rosey
- SIX
- Byron
- SEVEN
- Rosey
- EIGHT
- Rosey
- NINE
- Byron
- TEN
- Rosey
- ELEVEN
- Byron
- TWELVE
- Rosey
- THIRTEEN
- Byron
- FOURTEEN
- Rosey
- FIFTEEN
- Rosey
- SIXTEEN
- Byron
- SEVENTEEN
- Rosey
- EIGHTEEN
- Byron
- NINETEEN
- Rosey
- TWENTY
- Rosey
- TWENTY-ONE
- Byron
- TWENTY-TWO
- Byron
- TWENTY-THREE
- Rosey
- TWENTY-FOUR
- Rosey
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Byron
- TWENTY-SIX
- Rosey
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- Byron
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- Rosey
- TWENTY-NINE
- Byron
- THIRTY
- Rosey
- THIRTY-ONE
- Rosey
- THIRTY-TWO
- Byron
- THIRTY-THREE
- Rosey
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Rosey
- THIRTY-FIVE
- Byron
- THIRTY-SIX
- Rosey
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- Byron
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Byron
- EPILOGUE
- A month later – New York City
- 14 months later - Star Falls
- MR. MAYFAIR
- Beck
- Beck
- Stella
- BOOKS BY LOUISE BAY
“Emptying the chalets we think are the most vulnerable to storm damage. It’s all hands on deck. I’ve got every member of staff on shift helping.”
“Alright,” I say. “Then let me help too.”
“Okay then,” he says, leading me out the main entrance. He glances up at the sky threatening to pour with rain at any moment. “Prepare to get wet.”
As we head over to chalet four, a line of staff comes toward us, carrying blankets and mirrors, dining chairs and coffeemakers. It’s like we’re looting the place. I scan faces, waiting to catch a glimpse of Rosey, but I don’t see her.
“Is everyone who was due on shift still working? We haven’t sent people back to their families?” I ask, picking up one end of a huge antique oak chest in the primary bedroom of the chalet. Hart picks up the other end.
“Anyone who wanted to leave has gone already,” he says. “Most people aren’t local. Oh, and one of the waitresses had to find her cat.”
My heart leaps out of my chest. Cat? Was that Rosey who left? She can’t have thought leaving the protection of the Club to go after Athena was a good idea.
Hart and I get into a rhythm carrying the chest across the site. As nonchalantly as possible, I say, “I take it we have a list of everyone who’s staying up here so we can ensure everyone’s accounted for?”
“Absolutely,” he says. Of course he doesn’t offer me a look at the list. Why would he? I’m not known for micromanagement, but I frantically try and think of an excuse to see it. All the while I’m scanning faces, trying to find Rosey.
As we make it inside the main building, Hart calls out to Hazel. “Have we updated the roster since the last bus left?” he asks.
“Yeah, it was just Rosey Williams on the bus. I’ve taken her off.”
My heart sinks.
Fuck. Rosey. I have no idea if she knows how to prep for a tornado. I can’t imagine there are many tornadoes in Oregon. Does she even know about the shelter by the cabins, or how to use a weather radio?
There’s no way she can be on her own in the cabins. I glance at the darkening sky. Hart and I put the chest down and I say, “Actually, there are a couple of things I’m going to need from the cabin. I’m going to head down into town.”
It’s the easiest decision I’ve made today. There’s no way I’m going to leave Rosey on her own.