The beachside mailbox looked worse than she remembered—rust flaking off in jagged bits, fog curling so thick it felt alive, pressing on her skin. The briny air sat heavy in her mouth, metallic, salt and kelp mixing until she almost gagged. Somewhere out there, a buoy bell clanged—slow, off-kilter—like it was warning her to just… turn back.

Her heart was going too fast. Too loud. It didn’t match her breathing, which was all uneven and shallow.

David’s text burned through her skull—Mailbox. Now. And that voice memo… I’m not done.

She hated how it replayed in her head like he was standing right behind her.

Ellie was safe—at least she...