Chapter Fifty-Seven
The midday sun is disappearing behind clouds, but Haven Cliff’s stone terrace radiates its heat. Hayley can’t even turn on the ceiling fans that kept the wicker seating area nice and breezy yesterday, because the switches are inside.
She’d literally kill for a bottle of water.
And for her phone, not just so that she can call for help, but because she’s nearly as bored as she is thirsty. She can’t text or FaceTime or listen to music or browse online . . .
There’s absolutely nothing to do except sit and stare off into space.
Space being the trees at the edge of the big front lawn.
The lake is back in there somewhere. It must be, because that prom girl drowned in it during the party in the woods at Haven Cliff. She probably didn’t know how to swim, or went in too deep, or was wasted, or maybe all of those things. And it was nighttime.
Hayley will be fine. She just needs to cool off. Plus, the lake water is probably safe to drink.
Mind made up, she sets out across the grass and into the woods.
It’s much cooler here. The scented air reminds her of fall—of damp leaves on the ground, and of snuggling in her heavy quilt on a crisp night after it’s been stored in Mom’s cedar chest all summer.
She just wishes she were wearing sneakers instead of flip-flops.
In a few spots, there are trailing vines poking through the thick layer of wood chips on the path that might be poison ivy—she’s not sure if that has clusters of five leaves or three.
Chloe had a bad case at camp. She had to spend three days in the infirmary, and she scratched her face so badly you can still see the scar.
As she walks, Hayley keeps an eye out for ghosts, thinking it would be cool to go home and tell Chloe a true ghost story that actually happened to her, not just some thirdhand tale the counselors share around a campfire.
She’ll leave out the part about the mess in the house, of course, and about getting locked out. And she’ll change it so that it happens at midnight, because there’s nothing scary about walking in the woods in the middle of a sunny day.
Although the day isn’t that sunny anymore.
At a fork in the path, she pauses, wondering which side might lead to the lake. In one direction, it goes into a steep climb toward big rock ledges. The other direction isn’t exactly downhill, but it looks a little flatter.
If she heads uphill and there’s no lake, she’s going to be even hotter. The sky is clouding over so fast, she might not have time to backtrack in the other direction for a swim before it rains.
She takes the flat route. It winds through the trees for a short distance, then around a bend into a big open space with a tennis court.
Nearby, there’s a brick arched wall, with a stone pedestal standing under each curve.
Just beyond, she sees yellow tape roping off an area marked by big piles of dirt and rock.
Spotting a big rectangular hole in the ground, she steps closer.
Then, hearing a footfall behind her, she whirls around, expecting to see a ghost.
But it’s a man, and he looks perfectly solid, not filmy at all. Wearing a blue hat and a strange smile, he says, “I’ve been waiting for you.”