Some of the information was known because, at the time, there had been a bit of an uproar – Roxy wasn’t just some unknown getting thrust into stardom by a record label. She’d been growing an audience steadily over the previous five years. People knew her name – in-state, at least. But that was enough. That was enough for word to spread, barbed with rumours and assumptions and fantasy, and that’s what I’m left with now. Information that might be true. Might not be. Roxy Raines’ mythology more than her personhood.

Anxiety rocks my belly and suddenly I feel very alone.

I think of my dad.

I pull up the texts between him and me, read the last one. I just need to know where you are.

I drag a finger across the screen.

Me: I’m sorry for not telling you but it’s really important. I’m in Sandown Bay, in Delaware. Long story.

Just give me some time. I can show you I’m worth something if you just give me some time.

It’s obvious that the island is harbouring something terrible. I know just from today. It permeates everything, the never-healing wound. I can’t explain it. The people here are heavy. The island itself a pair of bloodshot eyes.

Meanwhile, truth is curative and unchangeable. God, it’s the easiest thing in the world. It doesn’t pull tricks.

The whole of Sandown is collapsing under the weight of what happened and I’m going to be the one to save it.

An unexpected wave of comfort rolls from the back of my neck down through my feet. The temperature is cooler now and I’m covered by the thin sheet and again comes the endorphin rush of the leaving, the room quiet, cicadas chirping nearby. The knowing will get all of us out of this.

I need to know what happened that night.

I need that note.

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

SATURDAY 29 MAY

I’m awoken by an expletive.

‘Shit!’ someone says, and I shoot up out of a dreamless sleep to see her, a dark-haired girl frozen in ostensive horror in the doorframe – horror, I realize, which is directed towards me. ‘Hello!’

My brain and stomach lurch in time – and it comes to my attention that I’m not wearing clothes. I tug the duvet up to my neck and wonder if my eye sockets can expand wide enough for their contents to evacuate. I speak the truth – ‘I’m naked.’

The girl averts her gaze. ‘Yep. Got that. OK. Have a second. More, even. Many, many seconds.’

The door shuts.