“Of course you do. You remember. Think. You were so smooth when you lied to the rangers. They believed your story. They believed that your father went off on the trail by himself, and he fell. But that’s a lie. You were here on the cliff with him. You know what happened. You saw everything.”

“It’s all blank,” she said. “I don’t remember anything.”

“A daughter killing her father,” Todd repeated. “A father who never loved her for even a minute of his life.”

“That’s not true. He loved me.”

“Did he? Did he really love you? Well, what about her?”

Frankie blinked. “What?”

“What about your sister, Frankie? Did he love her? She was always a disappointment to him, wasn’t she? Always a failure.”

“What are you saying—”

“You’re not the only one who lied to the rangers. Your sister lied, too. You both covered it up.”

“Pam wasn’t there,” Frankie said.

Todd smiled at her. “Of course she was.”

Frankie heard a roaring in her head. It got louder and louder. Somewhere, distantly, someone shouted. It was Frost, but she heard other shouts in her memory, too. An argument. Voices raised. Over her head, she heard the beat-beat-beat of a helicopter drawing closer, but she also heard her own voice, months earlier, screaming.

She could see them on the cliff. The two of them. Her father and her sister.

“Stop!”

She screamed it again in the here and now. Out loud. Over and over. She shouted exactly what she’d shouted at Pam. “Stop, stop, stop, what are you doing, stop!”

Todd grabbed her wrists. “Pam didn’t stop, did she?”

“Oh my God.”

Frost was close to the two of them. He was almost here, sprinting, calling to her. He was steps away. She could hear him in her ear, and she could hear him on the trail: “Run, get away, get away!”

Todd took Frankie’s wrists and slapped them against his own chest. He had them locked tightly in his grasp, and she couldn’t wriggle free. “It was just like this, wasn’t it? Remember? Pam and your father were right by the edge. Right like we are now. You saw them.”

Frankie heard it in her head. In her memory. Her own voice.

Pam, stop! Don’t!

“You know what happened next,” Todd said. “You saw what she did to him. I’m not going to let you forget. I want you to remember everything. I want you to die with the truth.”

Frankie saw it in her head. The memories came back. It was a blur, and the blur became a sketch, and the sketch became a painting, and the painting became a photograph. Pam was on the cliff’s edge. So was her father. They were arguing. Screaming. She didn’t understand it. She’d heard it get bad between them before, but never like that. And then—

“Say it,” Todd hissed.