I followed a deer trail to the coast. Even on the brightest summer days the ocean was a weary gray-blue, an aluminum sheet dented by the sun. Our neighbor islands were dark smudges in the mist. From above, Casco Bay looked like a shattered emerald strewn along the coast of Maine. We were too far from the mainland to hear the city—out here it was only the shriek of seabirds, the sweep and sigh of waves. A distant bell when the ferry docked.

On the stone below me, a seagull pecked at a mound of bloody flesh. There wasn’t enough left to tell what it had been when it lived. I slithered down the rocks, slow and steady, snapping photos. This was the kind of shit I lived for now. Things coming apart. Insides, stuffing and stitching. Undoings.

The gull spooked and flapped off. I got in close for a macro shot of mangled meat glistening in the sun. Not sure, but that small red lump might be a heart.

The hair rose on the back of my neck. I slowed my breathing until my pulse echoed in my ears.

Red, wet meat. Like Ryan’s broken skull, gray matter bathed in blood. Like the bone jutting through my skin as my arm went numb, forever.

Look at it, I told myself. Stop being a little bitch. Face it.

Face what you did.

I felt like I was going to puke.

Breathe.

Waves on stone. Spray and fizz. Far off, a bell and a foghorn. Eternal, unchanging.

Instead of backtracking through the woods, I made my way down to the shore and followed it around the island, a slog through wet sand. My running shoes filled with muck and I was sweaty and the sun was directly overhead by the time the house came into view.

I needed to talk to someone. I didn’t care about interrupting Frankie’s meeting. What would she do, fire her highest earner?

I just needed to talk. To get out of my own head for a minute.

I flung open the French doors and stormed into the dining room. Everyone turned.

Frankie sat on one side of the table, black curls in a springy nimbus around her head, eyebrows raised. Dane slouched beside her, and then our lawyer, tapping on an iPad. Across from them sat a handful of guys I’d never seen before, in slacks and collared shirts. And at the foot of the table, right in front of me, was—

My chest went tight as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Frankie said.

Dane waved me over, pulling up a chair.

If I hadn’t barged in I could’ve backed out, but it was too late now. I sat down. Their stares weighed on me, one heavier than all the others combined. The last person I wanted to see. Sitting five feet away. In my house. In my life.

“This is the girl I was telling you about,” Frankie said. “Our highest earner, Morgan. Morgan, this is blah, blah, blah—”

I heard nothing, saw nothing except that face. The one that stared back, reflecting my shock. Wide eyes the color of sun filtering through leaves, a green haze speckled with gold.

“And this,” Frankie said, “is—”

“Ellis Carraway,” I finished, my voice flat. “We’ve met.”

Here’s how the meeting went.

FRANKIE: So. Expansion. We’re opening new houses.

DANE: I’ll be heading up our first branch.

VADA: [Glares at Ellis.]

ELLIS: [Stares at the table.]

FRANKIE: And I want to experiment with new tiers of service. Private group sessions, subscription plans. Can we add that to the existing infrastructure?

ELLIS: [Still facing the tabletop.] Sure. But it’s better if you start with a clean slate. I had a look at your code. It’s a mess.

FRANKIE: Does it matter?

ELLIS: [Shrugs.] You want to build new levels atop a house of cards. Eventually it’ll crash. Then you’ll have to rebuild anyway, and your business might be offline until you do. Huge waste of resources.

FRANKIE: Okay. We’ll do it your way. Clean slate.

VADA: She’s going to redo the entire site? That’s a huge waste of resources. It works fine as is.

ELLIS: [Finally looks at Vada.] Sometimes you think it’s working fine as is, when it’s really falling apart.

VADA: So you want to raze it to the ground. Destroy everything and rebuild it to fit your vision, not ours.

ELLIS: If you build on top of a collapsing foundation, it won’t last anyway.

VADA: Maybe it isn’t meant to last. We’re not even sure it’s what we want long term. But you want us to commit everything. Risk it all.

ELLIS: So think it over. You shouldn’t commit to something you’re not really serious about.

VADA: And you shouldn’t push us to take the next step before we’re ready.

FRANKIE: [Glances at Vada, then Elle.]

DANE: What the hell are they talking about?

FRANKIE: Enough. We’ve heard both sides. Let’s vote. All in favor of a rebuild?

[FRANKIE, DANE, and the LAWYER raise their hands. VADA folds her arms and scowls.]

FRANKIE: The ayes have it. Morgan, your petulance is noted.

DANE: [Snorts.]

VADA: Do you even know what that word means, Dane?

DANE: Does it mean you’re kind of a bitch?

ELLIS: [Covers her mouth, hiding a smile.]

FRANKIE: Darlings. Save the foreplay for the clients. Now, let’s talk search engine visibility. How can we . . .

The discussion continued while I sat there and seethed, not parsing another word till people scooted their chairs back and said their good-byes. Dane touched my arm. I eyed his hand as if it were a leech.

“I’m taking her to the mainland,” he said, nodding at Ellis. “The boys have their own ride.”

I started to stand and he gripped tighter.

“Come with.”

“No chance.”

“Don’t you want to catch up?”

I didn’t know where to begin with that. Instead I said, “You told me you were meeting ‘some web guy.’ ”

“I thought ‘Ellis’ was a guy.”

I groaned. My shoes felt full of quicksand. I was still disgusting from the hike.

“I need a shower,” I said. “And I’ve got stuff to do.”

“More important stuff than seeing your best friend?”

I’d avoided looking at her, but now I forced myself. She stood at the edge of the room, tall and lanky and awkward, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She wore a gingham button-up with skinny jeans and black Chucks. As I watched, she spun a long bang around one finger, over and over, until it wound so tight she gave a start. Nervous habit. Sometimes she’d done it with my hair, not realizing.

My heart clenched.

“Come on,” Dane cooed. “Don’t be so stubborn. Besides, do you really want to leave me alone with her? I’m a predator.”

“You’re as dangerous as a teddy bear.”

But I ended up on the yacht anyway, Dane in the upper-deck captain’s chair, me and Ellis at the stern rail.

The boat was old yet in good repair, a gleaming white fang cutting smoothly through the water. Dane coasted along slowly. Giving us time to catch up. In my head I went back to last night and held him under till he stopped struggling.

Elle kept shooting glances at me, but averted her face when I glanced back. Wind whipped her shirt and traced the outline of those thin bird bones. Against the ocean blue her hair looked redder, the only living thing in a drowned world. A freighter in the distance gave a mournful bellow, like whalesong.

“What?” I said.

“Nothing.”

“Then stop staring at me.”

Her hands curled around the rail. “This is all so—it’s so weird.”

“Yeah, must be weird seeing someone you never wanted to see again, right in your fucking workplace. Wonder how that feels.”

No response.

Foam trailed in our wake, scarves of air rustling through the water.