When Jamie reaches for his phone, it’s almost like he’s afraid that it might bite him, so I press the buttons myself, and soon there’s a voice in my grandfather’s office. A ghost on speakerphone, calling from the grave.
“Blake! Man, you’re not going to believe this. Call me back.”
Slowly, my brother reaches down to play the next message.
“Blake! Pick up the phone, man. I’ve got to … Just call me. As soon as you get this, call me!”
At first, Spence sounds excited, intrigued. But by the next message he’s out of breath. It’s like he’s been running and is winded. His voice is barely a whisper.
“Blake. It’s me again, man. I’m trying to get back to the embassy, but if I don’t, you have to know —”
Spence never speaks again. I hear a crash, like his phone falling to the street. There are mumbles and scuffling sounds. A hit. And then there’s nothing but silence and a cold chill of dread that comes with the knowledge that we’ve just heard the last moments of John Spencer’s life.
For a long moment, my brother just stands, looking at the phone, guilt and grief spreading across his face.
His friend called him, but Jamie wasn’t there. Not for our mother. Not for Spence. And now it’s way too late to save either one.
“He made it back to the mainland,” I say again, hoping that this time they’ll believe me. “He made it back, and he saw something. And they killed him.”
No one says, There is no “they.” My grandfather and brother have already spent years telling me there is no Scarred Man. But there is. Dominic is real. His scar is real. It’s just the details of that night that my mind always managed to forget and confuse.
This time, it’s the details I don’t know.
“He made it off the island,” I say again.
“How?” Jamie asks, and for a second, I think I might do something crazy. I think I might just tell the truth. But then I hear my name.
“Grace?” Ms. Chancellor is at the door. She looks at my friends and then at me. Once upon a time I might have thought I could read her bemused expression, but not now. Now I have no idea what she’s thinking when she says, “Well, isn’t this the party?”
In a flash, I see the future. Spence’s phone is right here, not quite proof, but something. And I could tell them about the tunnel and the Society and the cryptic, nagging doubts that plague my mind. I could tell them about Spence’s search, my mother’s obsession, and maybe I could make somebody understand that this is so much bigger than two boys fighting at a party.
I could do that. And I could also end up back in a psych ward.
Or worse.
Whoever did this killed a US citizen, framed an ambassador’s son, and planted a bomb on a diplomatic vehicle.
There are things that are far, far worse.
“Did I hear that you all are going out to dance in the rain?” Ms. Chancellor says. Her smile doesn’t quite reach her brown eyes, though. I’m almost terrified of what she might mean when she says, “Do be careful. I’d hate to see anyone else get hurt.”
Where were you?”
That we make it all the way to the street before Noah spins on me is something of a miracle. It’s still raining — not a downpour, but the kind of heavy, lingering drizzle that clings to your hair and your clothes until it feels like you’ll never be truly warm or dry again.
But that doesn’t stop the festival. According to legend, when the rains came two hundred years ago, musicians filled the streets and the people danced, so now everyone who has ever played an instrument is outside in the rain, leading the nonstop procession. Tourists and natives alike are dancing in the streets now, carrying umbrellas that they don’t even hold overhead as they spin and spin, following the circle that rims the city, dancing down Embassy Row.
Noah glances in their direction then shakes his head. “Ignore them.”
“Noah, I —”
“Where were you?” he says again, not teasing. And for the first time I really let myself consider today’s events from his perspective. We all went to a place where someone died and then Alexei and I disappeared without a trace. We were gone for hours, and Noah’s right to be angry. They’re all right to be terrified.
“We got stuck,” I say, as if that makes any sense.
“Stuck how?” Noah asks through gritted teeth. “And how did you get back here? We had the only boat.”
“There was a tunnel,” I say. “Or really more like catacombs or caverns or something. Anyway, there are these big ruins in the center of the island. It looks like it was some kind of temple or fortress or something once. I think Spence went in there. That night. I think he got stuck in the same room we got stuck in and then he found the same tunnel we found and took that back to the mainland.”
“I don’t understand,” Megan says. “What kind of tunnel? You mean like the ones that are under the city?”
“Yes,” I say, then reconsider. “No. I mean … I don’t know. It hooks up with the city tunnels, though. That’s how Alexei and I got out.”