Adam was who she trusted with her plan. She stepped into a shadow to hide and give him privacy. He came back to the window. It was a struggle, but they managed to pop the screen off without making too much noise. He climbed out. They stood quietly and listened for any sounds of his parents stirring.

When she thought it was safe to move, she crept back along the water’s edge. Adam followed behind.

“What are we doing?” he whispered.

“We’re releasing the snappers,” she said. She had counted at least half a dozen traps and guessed each one held two or more snappers apiece. The job was too big for one person.

He grabbed her arm so she’d stop walking. She turned to face him. His eyes were open wide. “Why?” he asked.

“So they don’t get Sara.”

“But don’t you want her found?”

She furrowed her brow. It was a complicated question and one with no easy answer. But he had crawled out of his window in the middle of the night, he could get into serious trouble, she could get into serious trouble. It was against the law to mess with a fisherman’s traps, and yet he was standing here. She owed him an explanation.

“Yes and no,” she said. “I want her found but not this way.” It was the best she could do. She didn’t know how to explain her dream, how Sara asked not to be found, how she wanted her mommy. The dream had felt real. And the least Caroline could do was not let Sara be found by the snappers. She had formulated a plan earlier that evening, lying in bed, too afraid to close her eyes. “She’s one of us,” she told him. A kid. It was personal. “And we owe it to her.”

Adam nodded. On some level, it was personal for him, too. Maybe it was his subtle way of getting back at Heil and the other adults for taking his treasured horse’s bit, for not speaking about the dangers of swimming in the lake, its history, what lies at the bottom.

“Are you in?” she asked, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

“I’m in.”

They continued to follow the water’s edge. Caroline’s sneakers sunk in the mud. Behind her, Adam was having the same difficulty. His feet made a sucking sound with each step. And then it stopped. She didn’t hear him anymore. She turned around. He was standing still, looking out at the lake. “Adam,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I heard, like, a neighing sound or something.” He pointed to the sky. “But I couldn’t have. The moon isn’t full. You can only hear the horse during a full moon.”

She looked at the moon. It was a gibbous moon. She had learned about the eight lunar phases in earth science. But was it a waxing or waning gibbous? One occurred before a full moon and the other after. She hoped it was the latter, and that the full moon had already past.

“I checked the calendar the other day, you know, after what I found,” Adam said. “It won’t be a full moon for another two days.”

So it was a waxing gibbous moon. She nodded and looked around uneasily. “Come on,” she said, glancing at the moon and lake one last time. “We need to keep moving.”

They continued along the water’s edge, fighting the mud. When they reached the beach, they had a decision to make. They’d either have to cross the road and make a wide loop around the parking lot, staying close to the woods and possibly waking up Cougar, or they could stick close to the Pavilion but risk running across the open lot without any cover. The direct route was the quickest and also the scariest in her mind. She glanced at Adam. Shadows covered his face, but she sensed his nervousness. Maybe it was best to take their shot in the open and get it over with as fast as possible.

“Stay close to me,” she said.

They sneaked along the beach’s fence line and reached the Pavilion. The water licked the shore, the crickets chirped, the mosquitoes buzzed around her ears, but otherwise the night was quiet. She took a careful step toward the building, Adam in tow. They kept their backs to the wall, staying in the shadows, creeping slowly toward the stairs. The gravel underneath their sneakers snapped, crackled, and popped like the cereal Caroline ate for breakfast. The sound was much too loud in the silent night. They continued under the steps and around the corner where the lake opened wide and flickered under the moon’s glare, where the gaping parking lot awaited.

“On the count of three,” she said, “we run to the dock. We can hide behind the third pillar.” It was the tallest pillar on the pier and the one closest to Stimpy’s boat.

Adam nodded.

“One,” she said. “Two.” Before she got to three, a duck splashed in the water, quacking and calling a warning. She and Adam both jumped. They stared at each other. He covered his mouth and laughed into his hand. She started laughing too, a nervous kind of laugh that hurt her belly when she tried to contain the sound.

“Shhh,” she said through jittery giggles.

When they had both settled down, they straightened up and looked around.

All was still.

“One, two, three.” She took off across the lot. Adam was somewhere behind her. She didn’t look back until she reached the pillar. A second later Adam slammed into her. They were both bent over, sucking wind. Adam wiped his face with the back of his arm.

Once they had caught their breath, he said, “Now what?”

“Now we set them free.”

*   *   *

Caroline squatted next to a smaller pillar at the end of the pier. She pulled on the line that disappeared into the black water. The trap was heavy and lopsided, but she was able to tug on it an inch at a time, careful not to make a sound, until the trap surfaced.

“I’ll hold it up,” she said. “And you open the trap door.”

“No way.” Adam shook his head. “I’m not getting my fingers anywhere near those snappers.”

He had a point. She wasn’t thrilled about sticking her hand close to the trapdoor and the snappers’ mouth, but what other choice did she have?

“Here.” She handed him the line.

He struggled with the weight of the trap, and it slid underneath the water again.

“This isn’t going to work.” They had to move quickly if they were going to release all of them before the sun came up. She took a moment to think, then came up with an idea.

“I’ll pull the traps out of the water and wrap the line around the pillar. All you have to do is make sure the line stays wrapped.”

Adam nodded.

She raised the trap again and secured the line on the pillar before handing it off to Adam. “You got it?”

“I got it, but hurry,” he said.

“Here goes nothing.” She lay face down on the pier and stretched her arms over the side. The snappers shifted and jostled the cage, but she was able to unhook the latch and pull the door open. She stood up. “That wasn’t too hard.”

“They’re not swimming out,” Adam said, struggling with the line.

“Cripes.” She’d have to tip the trap to get them to swim out, which meant sticking her fingers inside. She wiped her wet hands on her shorts. “Don’t let go,” she said, and lay down on her stomach again. She slipped her hands into the water and stuck her fingers inside the trap far enough to grasp the metal bars, lifting as best she could, tilting the cage to force the snappers out. She had to shake it several times to get them to move, but after a few seconds the two snappers swam free. She pulled the trap from the water and latched it closed. “Drop it in.”

Adam unwound the line from the post, and the trap slowly sank to the bottom.

“That’s one down.”

They pulled each line, opened the traps, and shook the snappers free, one after the other in succession without stopping. They moved systematically, catching each other’s eyes every so often, checking the gibbous moon.

On the last trap, tired and weary, Caroline’s fingers slipped from the latch. The bigger snapper reared its head and opened its mouth in warning. She pulled her arms back. The sudden movement scared Adam, and he let go of the line. The trap scraped the side of the pier and splashed into the water. She lunged for it, catching the side, and shook it until it was empty.