CHAPTER TWELVE

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Adrenaline lends me strength, and I lurch upright and plow through Ethan

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Adrenaline lends me strength, and I lurch upright and plow through Ethan.

His eyes widen in surprise as I push past him. Then I'm stumbling out onto the beach.

It's raining out here, and it stings my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I blink, trying to see where I am as I sprint away from the cave.

It's gray and cloudy, and rain's pouring down at an angle, being carried by the wind.

We're on a wide, flat beach covered in driftwood and smooth black stones. Hundreds of seagulls cry out near the edge of the ocean, dive bombing the beach. I've never seen so many. The waves crash down, and as they recede, I see what the gulls are after. Fish. Dozens and dozens of fish. Hundreds of them.

All dead.

No time to care. I run a few more yards and whirl around. I'm in a cove... at the bottom of a cliff.

An old metal bridge spans two cliffs, hundreds of feet above me. It's covered in intricate metalwork, art nouveau-style. My heart beats faster, and I shield my eyes and glance in the other direction. There's a white lighthouse to my right, but it's not lit. I know where I am! I'm a few miles north of Port Ashford, in Gilly's Cove.

Ethan has emerged from the cave, and I take off running toward the bridge, my heart in my throat.

I don't get very far.

He's on me in seconds, gripping my arm painfully. I fall to my knees, my heart racing as I flail, beating him off with my free hand.

"Let me go!"

The rain's coming down harder now, blinding us both, but he's not easing up. He's dragging me back into the cave. I grab a handful of wet sand and hurl it into his face. He lets out a yelp, and I'm free.

I scramble to my feet and take off running, ignoring all the pain. I'm sprinting across sand, my hair whipping into my face, rain pelting me.

I gotta get away!

I can see myself, bound and gagged, suffocating in Ethan and Chloe's trunk. On the way to whatever they plan to do to me.

Our top story tonight, police are searching for a Port Ashford woman. Lyric Hart, an orphan and a loner, had been missing for several months before a coworker reported her disappearance to local police.

Mateo Gonzalez was the last person to see her.

"She was real nice," he says, flipping a burger. "A little clumsy but nice. Hopefully, they find her soon."

Deb's standing in front of The Rock, smoking a cigarette. "Late every damn day. Probably just lost track of time."

The reporter shoves the microphone in Keith's face. "How are you and your staff dealing with Lyric's disappearance?"

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