I remember Goatee and his e-cigarettes, the way he tried to drink himself into insensibility every chance he had. It was as if the miles of sea he tried to put between him and the past that haunted him were not enough. I remember the scream and the way he had jumped back in fright, the girl lurking among the balete. His slow but steady spiral into despair in the days that followed. “He’s not innocent,” I say slowly. “But…”

When I don’t say anything else, Chase grunts. “All the big studio heads make these decisions, but they’re getting off scot-free. You can’t say that your Diwata is handing out justice when there’re so many people who never get the punishment that they deserve. I—” Chase’s voice dips low. “Mom didn’t deserve to die. Nobody on that airplane did, least of all her. Why was that one passenger on their flight discovered here, on the island, but no one else? And why didn’t anyone else find the plane wreckage underground before the crew did?”

“The Diwata didn’t cause the crash. He honors innocents who die on Kisapmata.”

Chase stares at me. “Are you saying that the Diwata buried the passengers as a sign of respect? Then what’s the deal with Dad seeing Mom’s ghost? Is she suffering here?”

“I…I don’t think it’s your mom that your dad sees.”

He shudders. “Then where’s Mom’s grave?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“If the Diwata favors you, can’t you, like, entreat them to protect us or something? Protect the people who are here because they need a paycheck, like Melissa? Will it attack me?”

I remember the figure in the trees watching us, and the makahiya leaves on Chase’s windowsill. “It won’t. But I’ll keep you safe.”

Chase snorts. “Not like I don’t appreciate it, but…I mean, I’ve seen all the movies. It’s always the jock who gets stabbed, right? Plus, we’re the ones making money off your legends. And you’re still trying to protect us, even if we don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve it,” I say seriously. I am astounded when his eyes fill with tears.

“You’re a good person, Alon,” Chase says earnestly. “You really are. We’ve only known each other a few days, but I feel like—like I—”

Askal barks, startling us. He’s running in circles, pausing every now and then to backtrack a few feet and look at us, as if insisting we leave.

A chiming sound comes from Chase’s phone. “We got reception back?” Chase eagerly swipes to see the message.

And then he yelps in fright, dropping the phone to the ground.

I reach down for his phone to see what scared him so badly.

It’s a message from Rory. “THERE’S SOMETHING BEHIND YOU,” he has typed, in all capital letters, followed by a screenshot he took of Chase and me during our video call with him.

Behind us something lurks in the trees—a dark figure with a twisted white face that looks like its skin is being wrung dry.