Scarlett hadn't seen them, either.

What was wrong with her?

She felt a sliver of her heart break off and d r i f t.

Back by the house, Tammy and Steve were standing on the beach, looking up and down, looking for her.

"We got your book ending for you!" Steve called out.

"What do you mean?"

"They found the guy, Scarlett," Tammy said. "They found where you were."

Then Tammy kept talking about the Everglades and how they'd all go there in the morning and how there were photos and evidence they'd been there-clothes and stuff-and Scarlett felt her body seize up at the thought of seeing him, confronting him.

Her nerve endings vibrated.

He'd have to explain.

He'd have to fix them.

So they could retrieve.

Everything.

Get eleven years back.

Then Tammy said, "He's dead, Scarlett."

Seagulls halted midair.

Waves stopped midcrash.

And a breath caught in Scarlett's lungs and starting to congeal there. Her mother came up to hug her and she felt her body go limp, accepting.

Lucas

He'd come alone.

Like in a dream state.

Hadn't been able to sleep.

Hadn't been able to stop thinking about Avery.

Had she been relieved that the body wasn't Max's? That it was a guy named John Norton?

Or was she disappointed?

They'd said they'd found evidence that they'd been here.

Photos of them as children.

But none of Max.

What did that mean?

He'd texted her.

She'd wished him good luck today.

Too late for good luck.

Scarlett had come with her mother.

Kristen with her parents.

Even Adam and Sarah and their parents had deigned to show up. Lucas couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with either of them. But then Adam walked up to him and said, "It's good to see you."

"Get away from me," Lucas said.

"Wow," Adam said. "Sorry. Don't know what I did to offend you."

"I asked you to get away."

"You told me. That's different."

"Listen, Adam. You let your parents turn you into a puppet and it's obvious you don't care about any of the rest of us at all. So seriously, get out of my face."

Adam said, "You should get help for that."

Lucas looked away. "Like you know anything."

"Can we focus?" Chambers said; he'd been speaking with the boat's captain.

Lucas nodded.

They were about an hour south of Fort Myers, standing on the dock of an airboat company-a business that John Norton's family had owned but he'd sold years ago, with the provision that he be allowed to come and go and keep a house on the property. "So that explains how no one saw you or knew where you were," Chambers had said on the phone. "This is twenty acres of private swampland."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Lucas asked.

John Norton was dead, single gunshot to the head, and they were heading to a small cl.u.s.ter of structures he'd maintained-accessible only by airboat.

The airboat held just ten pa.s.sengers, so Chambers's partner, Sarah's mother, Kristen's father, and Adam's mother would all follow in a second boat.

Lucas sat in the same row-on the same bench-as Scarlett, but with her mother between them.

Hated the look of the back of Adam's head.

The fan that powered the boat was as tall as Lucas and, when it turned on, louder than bombs.

The captain wore huge black padded earphones that surely blocked the sound.

Why hadn't they all been given earplugs?

Or at least a warning?

The boat moved with shocking speed and surprising grace.

Just whizzed across the surface of the water effortlessly.

Birds-some bright pink, some white-lifted off, their long legs dangling in flight.

Lucas swore he could feel the eyes of alligators on him, could close his eyes and feel his stomach shift with the turns of the boat and see their jaws opening and snapping.

They glided over long gra.s.ses and through archways of mangroves. They made hairpin turns through channels, the boat spraying them with briny water here and there. It was giddy-making-the speed, the roar, the way the boat seemed to be defying some of the laws of psychics-and Lucas wished he were experiencing it as a tourist, not as himself.

Wooly cloud cover made for a chilly gray day. The girls had borrowed thick rain slickers that smelled of swamp. Lucas didn't like the three of them in identical orange; it reminded him of how they'd all come back in the same clothes, like a uniform. Scarlett's hair leaped fitfully in the wind and seemed to be darkening in color from the weight of mist.

A group of six white birds danced in front of the boat, and when they pa.s.sed, Scarlett pointed at something and Lucas looked.

Another pink bird.

Like fake pink.

Pinker than flamingos.

Pinker than any pink he could recall.

He felt like he'd remember having been here, having been on a boat like this, having seen that shade of pink in flight.

He'd have framed it all in his viewfinder.

Photographed it.

His hands itched for his camera.

But it was in his bag, which had been stowed in the back row.

He'd been afraid to have it out, afraid it would get wet.

Or broken.

Now, regretted it.

Around a turn, the boat slid into a wider channel, and a dock appeared up ahead.

A house appeared next-like an old shack but big.

Then behind it a series of smaller structures-almost hut-like-connected by a series of rope bridges.

A sort of mini-village.

When the boat's roar ceased and it pulled up to the dock, Chambers stood. He stepped out onto the dock, then turned to face them.

"Anything seem familiar?"

Heads shook.

"Well, let's go look around," Chambers said, holding out a hand to help Kristen off the boat. "We took the photos and personal effects away to bag them and tag them and dust for prints and run DNA, but you'll be able to see those later."

He led them to one of the structures, had to duck to go through the door. "This," he said, "is where you slept."

One room.

Five beds.

Not six.

Lucas walked down the center aisle.

He picked a bed, lay down on it.

The view out the window was nothing but sky.

What was Avery doing at that very moment?

Chambers said, "Anything?"

Lucas said, "No."

"Anybody?" Chambers tried, almost sounding irritated.

"Sorry," Adam said. "No."

Sarah shook her head.

"Kristen?"