“Oh of course.” Amy was instantly reminded of their conversation with Chloe, those whisperings of that “nefarious” late-night plot. “Wow, they’re like an actual mob.”

“I know, right? All they’re missing are some placards and pitchforks.”

Amy smiled, though deep down she couldn’t help but feel ambivalent about the crowd’s arrival. The mystery they had come to uncover seemed like a distant concern when compared to the problems Ryan faced.

“What happens now, then?” she asked, nudging the conversation back to him. “Tomorrow, what will you do?”

“Talk to my father, I suppose, though I’m open to other ideas if you’ve got any.”

“You know that you have to talk to him, don’t you?”

It took a moment for him to answer. “Yeah, I do.”

“And you know you can’t leave it any longer, right?”

“I know. Shouldn’t have let it drag out this long.”

The wind roared a little louder, whipping up the sand and slamming waves against the shore. In the distance, the crowd had just arrived at the lighthouse, surrounding the building like a swarm of insects, flashlights buzzing like fireflies around its dark walls.

“You know, being in this mess makes me think about my mother,” Ryan said wistfully. “She’s been gone for a long time—died when I was young—but I can’t help but wonder what advice she would give me if she were here.” His gaze was drawn to the lighthouse and the activity unfolding there, which meant he hadn’t noticed the sudden change in Amy’s expression, how a wave of sadness had just swept across her face.

“She was always the wise one,” he continued, “the kind of person who never saw problems, only solutions. You could be having the worst day ever, and she’d find a way to make everything seem okay. What I wouldn’t give to have her here right now, to have her tell me exactly what I need to do.”

Amy looked away at once as a tear escaped down her cheek.

Ryan turned back at her. “Amy? Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He looked at her more closely. “Something’s upset you.”

“I’m okay,” she said, even though her eyes were red and watery and she had an awful pain in her chest. His story about his mother had come from nowhere and she hadn’t been the least bit prepared.

“Is it something I said?”

“No,” she lied.

“It seems like it.”