Page 67 of The Unknown

No one had an answer, including me. All we could do was circle the island, hoping we’d find her while knowing deep down that we wouldn’t.

Now, as stars shine over a New Avalon with one less person on it, I can’t shake the terrible thought that, because of her vision and my nightmare, all of us already know what happened to Katrina. We’re just too afraid to admit the horrible truth.

She was taken by Azra.

Sixteen

After watching that video on the camcorder, continuing a search for Susie feels fruitless. Wary and suspicious, we all take a vote on what to do next. It’s unanimous that our first priority is, in Heather’s words, “to get the fuck off this island.”

Now we stand on the dock, figuring out how, exactly, we can do that. The lake is currently calm and empty, save for a flock of ducks swimming fifty feet from shore. Thanks to the poster in my cottage, I know what they are. Green-winged teals. When they fly off, flapping wings and flinging water, all of us watch, jealous of their ability to leave this place.

“Does anyone know how to swim?” Violet says.

I shake my head. “I never learned.”

After what happened to Molly, my parents forbade me from taking lessons or even getting into a swimming pool. A strange choice, in hindsight. You’d think they would have wanted me to be as strong a swimmer as possible.

“I can, but not two miles,” Heather says, staring at the expanse of water between us and the distant, hazy mainland. “That’s triathlon shit.”

Two miles is a stretch for everyone here, with the possible exception of Ronan, who’s already proven himself to be stronger than expected.

“I can try,” he says.

Heather looks from him to the lake and back again. “But can you make it?”

“I won’t know until I reach the other side.”

We all agree that, for now, the risk is too great. Especially since the rest of us won’t know if he makes it or not. If, God forbid, he doesn’t, we’ll be down one more person and still have no hope of rescue.

A motorboat appears in the distance, zipping over the water with a steady hum. Julianne spots it first and starts waving her arms wildly. The rest of us do the same. Even if the people in the boat see us, they don’t slow down. Understandable, really. We’re four women wearing period dresses and a man in a neckerchief. I wouldn’t stop for us, either.

“Maybe we could signal the mainland,” I say as the boat fades from view. “Start a fire or something. Someone might see the smoke and send for help.”

Ronan shakes his head. “It’s not like we’re shipwrecked. People know we’re here. Half the damn town watched us arrive. Even if they do notice the smoke from that far away, they’re just going to think we’re filming something.”

That was what Pete assumed we’d be doing here. He said so as he shuttled me and Loretta to the island. If he thought it, then everyone else who saw our arrivals probably thinks it, too.

Remembering our conversation in the boat makes me think of something else Pete said. About how his grandfather was the first to realize Daisy, Mrs. Semple, and the others were missing. How he saw their dresses hanging in the trees. How he swore until the day he died that something supernatural had killed them.

“I have an idea who might be behind this,” I say, springing across the dock.

Ronan calls after me. “Marin, where are you going?”

“To get Daisy’s diary!”

Once on dry land, I forgo the zigzagging path for a march straight to the top of the island. There, I rush to my cottage, grab the diary pages, and start flipping through them.

While I was recalling all the things Pete had told me, it got me thinking about everything he left out. Like how, in an entry from June 10, his grandfather Mr. Ruggle gets a name-drop from Mrs. Semple. Or that, in the second entry from June 11, he’s identified as the man who helped carry bootlegged booze off the island. Nor did Pete mention that June 16, the day his grandfather arrived on an empty New Avalon, is also the date after Daisy’s last known entry.

Studying the diary now, it all strikes me as a purposeful omission on Pete’s part.

Especially since he was so chatty about everything else.

While driving a boat.

That took all of us to this very island.

I snatch up the pages and leave the cottage, finding the others just making their way back from the water.