Page 76 of The Unknown

One two three. One…two…three. One—

I watch, waiting for the rest of the pattern.

It never arrives.

Rather than blink, the flashlight emits a steady glow, the beam lower than it was a second ago.

Like, on-the-ground low.

Like, Heather-isn’t-holding-it low.

I cross the dock in four rattling stomps. Back on land, I sprint along the shoreline, one foot splashing in the water, the other kicking up pebbles, never taking my eyes off the flashlight’s unceasing beam.

When I get closer, I see the flashlight sitting on the ground, beam aimed outward. A diagonal zag of light. Heather, though, is nowhere to be found.

I reach the spot next to the downed tree where she had been standing, accidentally kicking the flashlight as I screech to a halt, sending the beam spinning. I swoop down, pick it up, aim it first to the woods, angling for a glimpse of Heather being whisked away through the trees.

Or running in fear.

Or writhing in pain on the ground.

Seeing nothing, I face the lake, scanning it for a boat speeding away from the island or Heather wading into the water or—God forbid—floating face down on the surface.

Again, nothing.

Heather is gone.

Not missing. Not lost. Not taken.

Just.

Completely.

Gone.

I call her name, desperately hoping I’ll get a response.

“Heather? Where are you?”

I pause, waiting for a reply that, deep down, I know will never come. After five seconds, I resume shouting, my voice growing scratchy from strain.

“Heather?Heather?!”

I run through the trees, gripping the flashlight tight, its beam bobbing as I scramble to the top of the island. Every so often, I aim the light into the woods on either side of me, naively hoping to glimpse Heather. All I see are trees and stumps and ferns, their fronds an eerie green in the flashlight’s beam.

I emerge from the woods directly behind Heather’s cottage and stomp toward it, thinking and hoping and praying she’s inside. I don’t think about why she’d need to return there so quickly, without her flashlight and without telling me. Because she’s not there. I know it before I aim the flashlight through the darkened windows and see nothing but empty cottage. It’s the same when I open the door and peek inside.

No Heather.

I head to Susie’s cottage next, just in case she went back there for some reason. I get halfway across the green before I’m stopped by something in the oak tree, a few branches away from Susie’s clothes.

I aim the flashlight into the foliage, illuminating something dark blue with white polka dots. All breath leaves my lungs as I stare up at it, stunned and dizzy and terrified because somehow—impossibly—Heather’s dress is now in the tree.

June 13, 1926

It’s happened again!

Just like Azra said it would.