Mimi went into the office and Drew hurried behind the counter and jumped onto her computer. He typed in a name. Room 243 came up on the screen.

A KNOCK THUNDERED through the thin door of Brandy Connors Baker’s hotel room.

“Room service!” a voice called out.

Brandy looked up from where she was sitting on the bed, its surface covered with her neatly folded clothes and an avalanche of papers. She was in the midst of repacking. She hadn’t ordered room service, but the hotel staff had proven themselves incompetent by giving her a street-side room instead of one that looked over the water and Mount Rainier. The stupid young woman at the desk told her that the hotel was full and that there was no way they could move her.

“Don’t you know who I am? I’m the mother of Brianna Connors. She was murdered by some freak in Port Gamble and I seriously can’t take the stress of that, plus getting a noisy room. Please, dear, move me.”

The girl bit her lip and had clicked away on the computer until she somehow opened up a reserved block of rooms so Brandy could get her new, quieter room with a view.

“Just a minute,” Brandy said with a sigh, getting up from the bed. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Complimentary fruit, cheese, and champagne tray,” came a voice from the other side of the door.

Brandy loved champagne. She loved free stuff even better. She flipped the deadbolt, moved the lock to the open position, and swung open the door. Her face fell for a second, before she rebounded with a quick smile.

“How come you didn’t answer my texts?” Drew asked, pushing himself inside.

Brandy looked startled, but only for a second. “What texts?” she asked, faking innocence.

Drew, looking sweaty, disheveled, and like he hadn’t bathed for days, tore off his jacket and threw it on the chair.

“I sent you about a hundred of them,” he said, looking Brandy over, then glancing around the hotel room. “I wanted to let you know that I, you know, took care of everything.”

“I didn’t need a text to know that, Drew. It has been all over the news.”

She quickly scanned the hallway. It was deserted.

“Did anyone see you?” she asked.

Drew smiled. “No. I don’t think so. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You sure did, Baby,” she said, shutting the door.

INSTINCT MORE THAN A PLAN drove Taylor toward the water’s edge. It wasn’t dark yet, but it would be in less than thirty minutes. She looked at her phone, hoping to see at least a chip of a bar so she could make an emergency call.

The phone was completely dead. Not a blip of power remained.

Taylor looked out on the water for the man who had dropped them off, the one who had said he’d be crabbing nearby and would ferry them back to the mainland. He was gone. There wasn’t a single foamy ripple on the slate surface of Puget Sound.

“Help! My sister’s in trouble!” she yelled across the water.

Taylor turned to face the prison where her sister had vanished in the dark.

Pull yourself together, she ordered herself.

Taylor looked into the blackness of the water, blackness like the hole that had swallowed Hayley in one big, nasty gulp.

Suddenly, a boat rounded the edge of the island.

“Please! Help!” she called once more, her voice now a ragged rasp.

A SPIKE OF PAIN SHOT THROUGH Hayley’s body. She opened her eyes, put her hand to her head, and pressed it gently. It was wet. It hurt so much. She thought she was bleeding, but she couldn’t see if her hands were wet with water or blood.

She was in serious trouble, and she was all alone.

“Taylor?” she said softly, then louder. “Are you here? Taylor, can you hear me?”

Unsure of exactly what had happened, Hayley got on her hands and knees and started to crawl over the wet concrete floor in the direction of the sound of water running through a pipe. Her leg hurt, but she hadn’t broken it. As she moved through the gloom, her fingers touched something long and cylindrical—a cable or wire.

Good, she thought, something to follow. Something to lead me out of here.

After about twenty-five yards, Hayley had to stop. Her body hurt like hell. She was pretty sure resting was the wrong thing to do just then, but she just couldn’t go on.

I need to close my eyes. Just for a while.

As water from a broken drainpipe collected around her waist, she didn’t feel the icy-cold liquid.

“Taylor,” she said in a raspy whisper. “Get me out of here.”

OUTSIDE, TAYLOR TURNED in the direction of the prison once more. Her sister was alive.

The boat was still there, but it was inching away. Any minute now, Taylor wouldn’t be able to see it at all.

She took off her jacket and her shoes. And despite the icy water—

water she knew she could survive in for only a short time—Taylor Ryan dove in. As she started kicking and moving her arms at a pace that she’d never once reached during the entire time she’d been a part of the Kingston High swim team, it kept cycling in her head that if she didn’t survive at least she’d died trying to save her sister.

Her other half.

HAYLEY ACTIVATED THE VIDEO RECORDING feature of her cell phone. In that hazy moment, she decided that if she didn’t make it out of the darkness, she wanted the people she loved to have a good-bye message. She held the phone at arm’s length, facing her in the darkness, and starting talking. Her voice was soft, plaintive.

“Dad, I tried to listen to all of your crime tips. Wish now they were survival tips. I’m glad you were . . .” She stopped, realizing that she was talking about herself in the past tense. Right then she knew she had accepted that she was going to die. “Remember when you used to take me for long walks along the beach, not because of any reason other than you thought time alone was a good idea? It was. Those were my favorite times. I felt that it was just us. Not me and Taylor. Just you and me. Bye, Dad.”

Hayley felt her arm go weak, but she kept on. She had no choice. No one quits before they say everything that needs to be said.

“Mom, I’m not mad. I don’t want you to think of that. But I would be a liar if I didn’t tell you that it really hurts that you didn’t trust me enough with the truth. I could have handled it. No matter what it is. No matter what you’ve done. Or what I’ve done. I could have. I love you, Mom.”

She was crying then, not able to stop. “Colton, I love you. I always have. If there is another side, I will be there waiting for you. Tell your mother that I love her for all that she did for me and Taylor. Take care of my sister. Not too much, but enough to show that you care. Love always.”

The phone battery flickered. Like Hayley, it was fading fast. She was so cold and so weak, she could barely hold on to the phone. She needed to finish what she had to say because it was so very important.

“Taylor, you will always be the best part of me—my other half. I want you to know that you might have been jealous of me, but the truth is that you were always the one I wanted to be. You have the best heart, Tay. You are everything I wanted to be.” She stopped, feeling tears tracking down her face. “We can still talk through the wall. I know it. Make Mom tell you everything so that you can tell me. I love you, sister.”

Just as the last words slipped from her lips, she dropped the phone and murky darkness descended on her. There was no light to follow. No angel calling her name. Just black. Her last thought was that death could be violent like a storm or soft and easy like the tide.

At that moment, she felt sad and lucky at the same time.

THE LITTLE GIRL WITH THE COLEMAN CAMPING LANTERN in the corridor didn’t speak in Hayley’s foggy reality. Their eyes met. Familiar eyes. Hayley knew the girl was afraid. She kept moving through the dark, her lantern’s mantle sending a faint swath of light over the corridor. As she walked, she kept her focus upward.