Page 68 of Letting Go

"We need to check out the island." He's in front, going up the winding path toward the buildings.

I stare at his back.

"The buildings are closed for the season, Bryce."

The Emergency Service building sits in front of the lighthouse with its tented roof and plain red wash paint.

"Reed was interested in that building for a reason."

My stomach churns running up the hill and I push past him, cutting straight up and off the winding path. As we arrive at the top, something glitters in the moss and scrubby grass catching light from the lighthouse.

It's her bracelet with the animal charms. The one she always wears.

Finn sees it. "Don't touch it," he says.

I almost can't breathe. She was here. Right here. I scan the ground for blood but there's none.

Finn squats down, opens a zip bag, lifts the bracelet with a twig, and starts to bag it.

That's when I see that the door to the emergency building has been opened. There's a fan of freshly disturbed dirt in a fan right in front.

The fog is starting to burn off and that's when I see footprints.

"Chloe!"

I stand still. Finn freezes, straining to hear. Neither of us moves.

I rip open the door. It's clear people have been here. Dust is disturbed, a rug is bunched on the floor. "Chloe!"

There's the sound of a chair being smashed.

Jesus.

"Chloe!"

Suddenly, beneath my feet, there's pounding and I hear her voice. Muffled.

I kick the crumpled old area rug out of the way, revealing the handle to a cellar door. And then my heart skips again.

There's a brand-new hook and eye latching it shut.

"Chloe, stand back."

I wait a beat, Finn throws the latch, and I lift the door.

It's so dark it takes a second for my eyes to adjust, and the steps are steep, rickety, and so old the risers are of different heights. This time, I just call her name. "Chloe?" For one of the few times in my life, I'm scared.

I nearly collide with someone at the bottom of the stairs. Then light from above falls on her. I grab her, hold her, and her body shakes. Pulling back, I try to take in what she's been through as Finn makes his way down, pushes past us and screws in a lightbulb and the light flickers and grows strong. She weaves slightly and I hold her up, my other hand checking her face. Her lip is split and dried blood mats her hair up past her temple.

Her hands are wet, cold, and I realize she is freezing. I wrap my arms around her. Finn makes his way down and uses his phone flashlight to scan the basement.

"This is a crime scene. I'll have Mateus radio the Coast Guard to seal this off until we can get back here and bag everything."

Still, she hasn’t said a word. I just feel her shivering against me. I quickly let go of her and shrug out of my jacket.

I feel big, cumbersome, like I'm in the way. "Here. Put this on." I stuff first one arm down a sleeve and then the other, and that's when I see little bleeding marks on her wrists.

"I used a blade to cut myself out," she says quietly to explain the marks. "I'm fine. She stands there in front of me, her hair a mess, her skin so white in the dark she looks like a ghost. She's got on these turquoise tights, and one of her knees is bloodied.