She couldn’t wait to go home and tell her mum. Maybe Clover and Saffy would be there, too, and she’d tell them, and they’d all laugh and be happy again. But in her excitement, she had taken a wrong turn and found herself in the woods, tripping over branches. The forest had seemed endless, no sign at all of the bay through the trees. She had been scared out of her wits, jumping at every hoot of an owl and call of the wind.
Something had caught her ankle and she’d fallen forward, right over the edge of a ravine. It had felt like she’d never stop falling. Tumbling head over foot through mud and brambles and nettles, until at last she’d landed flat on her back at the bottom. She’d lain there, wondering if she’d broken her neck, staring up at the sky. Navy blue and streaked with stars. She had tasted mud and something else, something like metal. She’d wiped her nose on the back of her hand and saw a liquid shining there. Blood.
After what had felt like hours, she’d managed to roll over and pull herself onto all fours. A small tree stuck out of the hill on the other side of the ravine, and she’d pulled on it, hoisting herself up.
She had no idea what time she’d got home, but it was light. Her mother had answered the door. Luna had burst into tears as soon as she saw her, but the relief was soon swept away by something else—confusion. Standing behind her mother had been another girl. The girl had been wearing Luna’s nightdress. She’d also looked exactly like Luna. She had the same hair, same mouth, same everything.
“What’s your name?” she’d asked the girl, curious.
“Luna,” the girl had said. “I’m Luna.”
II
Cassie gets into her car and reverses quickly down to the road. She woke to find Luna and the girl gone, and a horrible knot in her gut is telling her that it’s going to end badly. Luna thinks the girl is a wildling. Those nutcases from the island have wormed their fucking stupid ideologies into Luna and now her vulnerabilities are giving rise to it. She’s seen it so many times—intelligent people, capable of reasoning and critical thinking, giving in to these stories the moment they experience grief or some kind of emotional upheaval. Coming back to Lòn Haven must have taken balls, but now Luna’s alone and dealing with her childhood all over again. Cassie needs to warn her.
She had messaged her dad late last night back home in Auckland, where he was enjoying an early morning surf at Takapuna Beach. Finn was recently divorced, had taken up veganism and surfing as part of his “new me” regime. He worked in forestry. At fifty-seven years old, he was the healthiest he’d ever been.
She had asked what happened after the Stay girls went missing back in 1998.
He’d told her the rumor that had spread across Lòn Haven: folk said there had been two Lunas, one a wildling, one the “real” Luna. He’s pretty sure it was nonsense. Luna was found. He was the one who had taken her to the police station—he’d been worried that Isla might take her to the burning trees—and insisted they call social services until her mother was found. He had helped the search teams look for Liv for two months solid, swept every part of the island. But to no avail.
She’d told him about Clover. About how Luna had said Clover had a mark on her, that she suspected she was a wildling.
“What do you think, Dad?” she’d asked. “Why would Clover be a kid instead of a grown-up?”
“I have no idea,” Finn had said. “But you need to get them both off the island. Now.”
III
“Why are these trees all black?” Clover says, screwing up her face.
They’re at the burning trees, and Luna is shaking. She has to do this.
“Can you stand against this tree?” she asks Clover.
“Why?”
“Please?”