After she hung up with Cam, Alexa crouched down so she could look out the front window without being seen, and for the second time that night her heart stopped. There was a car in the driveway.

It was a black SUV.

This was it. This had to be the same car Hannah called from the Cottage to tell her about. It was sitting in the spot vacated by her mother’s Acura.

That was when the doorbell rang again. And Alexa’s breath caught and she started to feel a little dizzy.

The only answer was the one there had always been, as obvious, as inevitable as a sunset. The bad men were coming.

She shouldn’t have told Sherri it was a false alarm.

The bad men were here.

“Alexa!” called Morgan. “The doorbell!”

“I know!” she called back. Her voice sounded amazingly normal considering how her insides were flipping around. The lights in the foyer were on. The outside lights were blazing.

Briiiing.

She couldn’t answer.

She had to answer.

Briiiing.

She’d tell the bad man he must have the wrong house, the wrong person, the wrong idea. She’d tell him to go away.

She opened the door.

81.

Cam

Cam drove fast down Hale Street. He didn’t like the way Alexa sounded. He wanted to get to her. He forced himself to rely on what made him a good golfer: patience, and focus, and calm in the midst of chaos. He thought about Mickelson and that final putt in 2004. He put his hands at ten and two on the wheel, the way he’d learned to drive. He focused on the road; he focused on Alexa.

“I’m coming,” he said out loud. “I’m coming, Alexa.” She had told him not to come, but of course he would. He’d get the car back to her; he’d make sure she was okay.

That’s when the deer ran out in front of him and froze.

Cam’s last coherent thought—his very last thought ever—was “That looks like a deer in the headlights!” which was something he’d have to remember to tell Alexa, because even though she’d roll her eyes he knew she’d laugh on the inside, and sometimes the inside laughs were the best kind.

He swerved to avoid the deer, and the pole was coming toward him, and there was the most terrific crunch of metal, and then everything went black. Except for a far-off light in the distance, no bigger than the head of a pin. And he wanted to say, “Alexa, hold on, I’m coming for you, I love you.” But he couldn’t say anything at all.

82.

The Squad