Chapter 6

The first thing I feel is his breath on my neck. Warm. Shaky. Desperate. We’re not on the highway this time. No screeching tires, no headlights slicing rain. It’s quiet except for the ocean, a slow, relentless shush against rock. I’m in the attic of the sea house. The air is thick with salt and dust, like wet cardboard left too long in the sun. Slanted ceiling, exposed beams, the tiny round window I half-remember from last time. Moonlight leaks in, silvering the dust between us. He’s...