Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
I grab the knob.
Pull it back.
I’m staring into the abyss, into a black void where there is nothing but death and infinity. There is no one in the shower, and I fear there is no one left alive anywhere. It’s just me and this never-ending darkness, swallowing me whole. It’s the lodge eating me alive.
Creak.
Behind me.
I whirl around to see my door at the end of the hall closing.
What the fuck?
I take off down the hall, running to my door, grabbing the handle.
It won’t turn. I can’t open it. I jiggle it repeatedly, but it won’t budge.
I kept the key in the lock on the other side, and now someone is in there, not letting me in.
Hell, I don’t even want to go in now.
Look through the keyhole, I think.
But I can imagine doing so. I imagine leaning down and looking through the keyhole and seeing that wolf’s white eye staring back at me.
I back away. I could ask Lauren or Rav for help, but what would they do? I need to find David Chen and get the other key.
I decide to talk to Everly. She did say to come by her place to talk, even in the middle of the night.
I quickly run down the stairs and then out into the night.
The fog is thick, obscuring the moon, and I hurry along the boardwalk, careful to not slip on the damp planks, my slippers having no tread. I pull my robe closer, the cold, damp air biting at my skin. Everything is dark, save for a few lights here and there, the water as smooth and dark as obsidian glass.
I reach Everly’s cabin and stop outside her door. I don’t want to wake her up, especially not since she already had to deal with me yesterday, but I don’t have a choice.
I rap on it quickly, my fingers hurting from the cold. God, it’s May. It’s supposed to be mild here. Why is it so cold?
Through the windows, I see a flashlight’s beam moving erratically, and then the door opens, Everly on the other side with it in her hand, wearing silk pajamas, a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead.
“Sydney. What happened? Are you okay?”
She steps out and reaches for my head, patting it over, as if I hit it again.
“Someone’s in my room,” I tell her. “I heard someone outside my door. I went to investigate down the hall, but I guess it was a trick or something because they went in my room and locked my door. I can’t get in, and the key is in there.”
She frowns. “Someone is playing a prank on you?”
I fucking hope it’s a prank, I think.
“One of the bad apples you talked about.” I look down at the flashlight. “Is the power out everywhere?”
“Generator is down,” she says. “Just for a couple of hours.”
“Why?”
“Routine,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Here, you must be freezing. Come inside, I’ll light some candles.”
She pulls me inside and shuts the door, then leads me across a dark room to a couch, putting a blanket on my legs. “Get warm and wait here. I’m going to go wake up David and get the spare key, and then we can all go over together.”
She goes over to a candle on the coffee table, grabs a pack of matches, and lights it. Then she slips on her coat and shearling boots. “I’ll be right back.”
She leaves, the flashlight shining in the trees outside the window before it disappears.
I look around Everly’s living room. It’s at least a lot warmer here than it was in the lodge. In the flickering candlelight, scented like oranges and cloves, a Christmas smell, I make out modern furnishings and fancy art on the walls. It may be a small cabin like the others, but I have no doubt everything in here costs thousands of dollars.
“Hello.”
I jump in my seat, letting out a yelp.
A man steps into the room, gathering his flannel robe around him.
Not just any man, but Michael Peterson, Everly’s husband. It takes me a moment to recognize him. I haven’t seen him around since that first day.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know we had a guest,” he says, his voice monotone. “Where is Everly?”
“I was locked out of my room. She went to get David.” I offer my hand. “I’m Sydney.”
“Sydney,” he says slowly, like he’s savoring the word, even though his eyes are cold as always, his prominent brow creating the deepest shadows. He comes over to me and stands right in front of me, towering. “Yes, I recall Everly talking about you.”
He doesn’t shake my hand.
I awkwardly take it back, my cheeks hot. “Good things, I hope.”
“Yes, yes, very good things.” He takes a seat in the leather armchair across from me. “Tell me, Sydney, how are you?”
“Other than having to bug Dr. Johnstone in the middle of the night, and her husband, because I was locked out of my room? I’m fine.”