“What?” I yell, and he tries again.
“Evie!” he shouts. “Fuckin’ Evie!” But that can’t be right. I must have misunderstood what he was trying to say.
Hart pulls me hard against his chest so he can shout right in my ear. “I didn’t know! I never felt it from ’er! There was so much other stuff to feel. And I was so mixed-up. But she told me, Grey! She told me the truth tonight! Back at Li’l Pass!”
I remember that scene in the trees. Hart’s hands around Evie’s neck.
And that’s when I hear it. Finally. That sound I’ve been wondering about since I heard it that first time in my bedroom, so clear it made me turn my head and look over my shoulder.
Click.
The cocking of the gun. Just behind my head. There’s so much noise. Rain and wind and the thumping of my heart. But that single metallic sound echoes louder than any of them. It’s the flipping of a light switch. Click. And everything else fades to black.
I untangle myself from Hart and turn around slowly. And she’s standing right there pointing one of Victor’s old pistols at me.
Everyone’s baby.
Evie.
That white-blonde hair is plastered to her head, and her painted-on eyes blink against the rain.
“He was gonna leave, Grey!” Her voice is a high-pitched whine. I can barely hear it above the wind. “She was gonna take him away from here! I overheard them talking about it!”
“Oh, Evie.” I thought my heart couldn’t break any more. But I was wrong.
I think about Elora, whispering in Evie’s ear from that dark, wet trunk at the bottom of the gator pond.
She hasn’t been murmuring warnings.
She’s been shouting accusations.
The storm surge is pouring into the bayou, and the water is rising fast. It’s already spilling across the tops of the wooden planks. Huge waves crash against the dock.
Another few minutes and the boardwalk will be underwater.
Then the whole town will be underwater.
“I didn’t mean to kill her,” Evie whines. “I just needed Hart to stay! He saved me, Grey. He saved my mama!”
“I know.”
“And I was so scared after. I was hiding there on the dock, and I didn’t know what to do. And I saw Wrynn come and try to save her. But she couldn’t.” Evie makes a horrible sound, like she’s being torn apart by the storm. “And I was so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I take a step toward her.
“But then Hart came back. And I saw what he did. For me. How he put her in that trunk and took her away. To protect me. And I thought he loved me. I thought –”
“We all love you, Evie.” One more step in her direction.
“No! That’s a lie!” Evie stops me with a shake of her head and a finger on the trigger. Behind me, I hear Hart suck in his breath. “Now you want to take him away with you!”
“I don’t!” I soothe. “I’m not.”
“I won’t let you,” she warns me.
The air around me changes, and another figure appears out of the darkness and the rain at the edge of my vision.
He promised he’d be here.
Zale holds out his hand and I start to go toward him, but Evie screams at me to be still. Not to move. She puts the gun against my head and I freeze. She’s shaking hard. Half-blind from the rain. Confused and scared and fighting the wind to stay on her feet.
I feel the water swirling around my ankles.
“Let Grey go!” Hart’s shouting at Evie. “Let her go, and I’ll stay here. I’ll stay with you. I swear!”
There’s an awful splintering, cracking sound as the rotting river dock gives way. It crumbles and collapses and disappears into the raging water rising around us.
The revenge of the river.
“Let Grey go, Evie!” Hart shouts again. “I won’t leave. I promise. It’ll be just you and me.”
Evie chews on her lip. She moves back and forth on one foot. In that Evie way she has. And I think maybe I can’t stand this. Maybe it would be better to die with them.
But then she nods and lowers the gun. And Hart pulls her into his arms.
“Go!” Hart’s voice is the crack of a whip.
But I can’t move.
“Now, Greycie!” He screams at me over the tempest. “Go!”
I turn and run toward Zale. Bare feet pounding. Splashing. As fast as I can go. The boardwalk tilts at an awkward angle. The pilings on one side are sliding deeper into the muck. I feel it sinking underneath me. A climbing vine grabs me by the ankle. Tries to pull me into the flood. I tear myself loose. But I don’t stop. And I don’t look back. I don’t want to see. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to remember. I’m waiting for the bullet to split my skull in half. For the force of it to knock me face-first into the water and the mud. But I never feel it. I only hear the shot.