Chapter Seventeen
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wind and the melody of Solina’s voice whip past me as I bolt out of the cabin and into the woods. Shadows lurk like monsters as I wade through the darkness. All I need to do is put some distance between me and the cabin. Far enough away that Hunter won’t be able to follow my path, but still close enough that I can find my way back to the party if I need to.
I settle against an oak tree that spins in and out of view. It’s big enough for me to collapse against, to hold me steady as I sink down into the snow. Whatever Hunter took works hard and fast. I wonder briefly if this is what Papi saw when Solina and I were taken from him. If that’s why he didn’t put up a fight. But I can’t linger there, not if I don’t want to lose myself.
I start with Hunter’s texts.
There are dozens, maybe even hundreds of messages from today alone, sixty-seven of them still unread. Names I don’t recognize ask him what time the party starts, and where, and who, and what will be there. Pointless conversations that I scroll past as quickly as I can. Beneath the endless party-related texts is a chat with him, Poppy, and Gabe. I tap into the chat, expecting to find months of conversations, but the thread is barely a page long.
Hunter initiates the chain with, anyone hear from stella? Followed up by she hasn’t texted me back all break
The only reply is from Poppy. new gf ghosted you already? harsh
I close the thread with a scoff, ignoring the doubt creeping over me like the wind chill. He’s just covering his tracks. Any caring boyfriend would notice his girlfriend wasn’t responding to him.
Just below the chat is a thread labeled Stella—Old Number. The last six messages are all from Hunter, sent across five days in December.
missing you rn
send pics once youre home?
wooooooow home for one day and youre already back to being a prude?
sorry
call me later?
babe wtf are you being serious rn?
The doubt becomes impossible to ignore. This has to be part of his plan. The vacation photos, the worried texts, the perfect, innocent boyfriend. With shaking hands I close out of his texts and open his photos, scrolling back until I find that top-of-the-mountain backdrop. There are almost a hundred practice shots of Hunter in various poses—from full body to selfies—leaning against the board, propping it up in the snow, holding it up over his head like a hard-won trophy. I click on the only photo that’s not just of him. A group shot with what must be his family outside an old-fashioned ski lodge, snowy-peaked mountains looming behind them. I tap on the photo to check the date, prepared to finally debunk his bullshit act and—
December 20. 2:46 p.m.
He wasn’t lying.
He wasn’t fucking lying.
He was the one who hurt her, but not the one who killed her.
My only real lead is gone. I bet everything on this, and now I’m left alone in the dark. Shadows dance between the trees, shaped like Hunter, like Poppy, like Solina on that slab. The forest is silent except for a distant laugh, the sound growing louder and louder as the world starts to spin. It’s her— Solina— her laugh turned cruel. Act like you care, the woods whisper.
“Stop it!” I shout.
Except there’s no one to push away but myself. I collapse onto the ground, grabbing at my hair and tugging as hard as I can, trying to replace one pain with another. It does the trick, and Solina’s voice trickles away long enough for me to catch my breath and see clearly for a moment.
Hunter. The phone. His crumpled body on the cabin floor.
I have to get out of here.
I pick myself back up, stumbling blindly in any direction because none of them seem better than the others. I need to get somewhere with service and call Tiffany. She’ll know what to do, I tell myself, even though she’s hundreds of miles away.
With every step, the world swims farther and farther out of view. The trees swirl together until they’re nothing but formless shapes in the endless stretch of darkness. When I trip over a tree root, I don’t realize I’m falling until my head smacks against the ground, the half-healed scar on my forehead splitting wide open. This time, the pain just makes everything foggier, the edges of my vision fading to black. My eyes start to slip closed, my body unable to keep up with the fight to stay awake anymore. The world spins endlessly, a voice whispers in my ear, and before I close my eyes, a face comes into view.
Gabe, yanking me up by the wrist.