He turns to leave, pauses, then hands me something else. “It’s a grisly picture, so give it back to me if you don’t wanna look.”

It’s a black and white photo, but that doesn’t hide the bloodbath. I can make out a pair of legs, a bloodstained wall behind a heap of flesh.

The corpse doesn’t appear to have an upper body.

“Haven’t seen this yet, huh? Alex Key had a Filipina wife. He killed her and fled to the island, and they found him outside the Godseye like this, days later. It’s why the authorities didn’t do much else after finding his body. Part of his body, anyway. Closed the case as quick as they could. Local government didn’t want an investigation, either. Always thought that maybe he’d run afoul of some local mob boss or something, and they’d dumped him there. Seemed like he had a running debt.

“Gries wants to feel better about his wife and Hemslock wants to clear his name and I don’t know why the hell so many of the higher-ups are interested in producing this show—but when I first heard what Key had done, I thought good riddance. I still don’t believe in all this god and ghost stuff, but if something really is out there, then I want to tell its story. Good job, you know? Hell of a good job.”

And then he wanders off, to discuss the upcoming episode they’re planning to film with one of the crew.

I remain where I am. My eyes flick toward the trees out of reflex, though this time there is no one watching. Small makahiya leaves slowly fold themselves shut, bashful against the wind. “Parang awa mo na,” I say quietly all the same, though I don’t know if anything hears, either.

***

A fight breaks out, strangely enough, between two of the bodyguards accompanying Hemslock. “I fucking saw it!” The soldier shouts angrily, pointing toward the shore. “He was there! Bastard followed me here! I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

“He was about to charge into the water when I stopped him,” the other soldier reports uncertainly.

“What the hell are you on about, Kyle?” Hemslock demands.

“My fucking stepfather, that’s who. He’s right there.”

“Your stepfather’s not in a condition to be here, Kyle. You told me so yourself. In the time it would have taken to get here, the hospital would have reached out.”

The soldier stares out at the sea. “But I could have sworn I saw him,” he whispers.

They send him off to the doctor’s tent.

Melissa sidles up next to me. “The studio did background checks on everyone coming to the island,” she murmurs. “I read some of the paperwork. That dude’s stepfather is in a coma at a hospital in Colorado. He’d fallen down the stairs in the dark or something. Wild. Wish they’d thought to do mental health checks on the mercs. Not really the people I want to have guns.”

The second time, it’s someone from the medical team who approaches Hawaiian Shirt, visibly shaking, to tell him that he’s seen his mother. Hawaiian Shirt stares at him for a good three seconds before venturing, “Your mother?”