I still need to talk to Ellis.

Me: Now?

Dad: There are evacuation orders for the entire east coast.

Evacuation orders?

The hurricane.

The night before all comes back to me. Ellis and Mary Anne and Booker and Peyton …

Peyton’s still not here. I consider whether she’d be with Liam, or at Sylvia’s, or if Sylvia even knows what happened. I think for a moment that I might be missing a shift at the diner but then remember everything that’s happened. I forget how quickly things can and have fallen apart, how quickly things become ridiculous. Two weeks. I’d set aside a whole summer and it has only taken two weeks for everything to fall apart.

But Ellis and I had come so far. We’d discovered so much. Nothing’s fallen apart – I’ve uncovered something. Or rather, I’ve built something.

Then why does this feel like chaos? Why do the answers still seem so far away?

I need to talk to Mary Anne but it’s likely that I’m the last person she wants to see right now. I can’t even remember what day it is. Sit and look at yourself from the outside and tether yourself to the ground, Mona. It’s Saturday. I flip my laptop open and google ‘weather’ – article upon article upon article. Hurricane’s early. Coming now. Bigger than they thought. Get away from the coast. Urgent weather warning for Sandown County and surrounding areas.

Me: When will you be here?

Dad: I drove through the night. All flights cancelled. I’ll be two hours tops.

I scramble from the room. I’m out of time and I need to talk to Ellis.

A noticeable hush falls over the hallway as I march through. I scan the faces for Peyton. Liam catches me on the way out, having clocked me from the kitchen, and holds my arm gently to keep me there.

‘Hey, man, what the fuck is –’

‘Liam,’ I say, and shake him off me, ‘even if I wanted to explain it to you I would have literally no idea how to start, and I also don’t have the time. I need you to get out of my way.’

Liam blinks at me, particularly dumbfounded. So much urgency for a lost girl going nowhere in particular.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. So many apologies still to give out. ‘I hope Peyton’s all right. Really. I mean it.’

He gives me a sideways look then he steps away without breaking eye contact.

‘Thanks,’ I say, and slip out of the door, mount a bike and go.