“You liar,” Ellen said. “My father saves everything. He thinks he’s clever, filing things away in folders in his inbox. I saw your emails, about ‘the baby.’”

I held my hand out to Lily, but she ignored it. She tried to move off the platform, but Ellen blocked her.

“Stay there, Lily,” Ellen barked. “Stay right where you are.”

“You got it wrong, Ellen.” I offered my hand again to Lily. “Hon, you’re not Greg’s daughter,” I said. “You’re Daphne’s.”

That quieted them both.

“What you overheard, Ellen? It was about something that happened a long time ago. I’d—Your father and I had made a mistake, that’s true. And we ended it. And he—helped me adopt a baby. Lily.”

I paused, taking a deep breath, knowing that everything I was about to say was going to hurt my daughter, but knowing if I didn’t explain it now, Lily could get hurt in other, worse ways.

“No,” Ellen whispered. “No, that’s not...”

“It is, Ellen. It is true. I didn’t know it then. Your father never told me who the baby’s parents were, and I didn’t want to know. I only just found out myself.”

“You’re a liar,” she said, wiping tears away. “You got pregnant. It was your fault. Only my mother blamed Daphne. They all did. And they didn’t care at all about me. None of you cared about me. You like to think you’re so special and good, but inside you’re all monsters.”

Lily lunged herself toward Ellen, attempting to get back onto the bridge. Ellen jerked, her arm swinging in an arc, hitting Lily in the stomach, pushing her back onto the platform. She fell, rolled toward the edge.

“Lily!” I screamed.

But it was too late. Lily disappeared off the platform into the abyss below.

FORTY-TWO

Kendra

I rushed through the woods. Theresa had been eavesdropping on us. I’d caught a glimpse of her in the moonlight. And where was she now? Had she transformed into an owl, flying over me, talons outstretched? Well, if so, I was a fox. I had teeth. And claws. I could move fast. And I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I heard someone ahead.

“This way,” I called, turning, looking for everyone. But I was alone. My friends had scattered. Vanished. Perhaps they, too, had transformed into the forest creatures they were—a fawn, a squirrel, a raccoon—skittering into and up the trees.

The cowards.

I made my way around the lake. It was dark except for the moon skimming its yellow light on the lake’s surface. It had been bright the night Daphne had died, too.

I needed to find Theresa. To explain what she’d overheard, before Maggie got to her. Before she went to the police.

To explain that it was an accident. A terrible accident.