As Ernest left, Linda remained motionless in her chair. Her eyes narrowed slightly; the smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes.

She murmured under her breath, “Something happened to him… That’s good.” There was a cold glint behind her stare—sharp and unreadable.

Then her phone rang. She reached into her pocket, checked the screen, and answered. “Hello?”

Whatever she heard drained the color from her face. Her hand clenched so tightly around the phone it looked like she might crush it.

That afternoon, Elissa woke from her nap to find Locke still asleep. She went downstairs and headed to the kitchen.

The servant greeted her with a smile. “Miss Holland, all the ingredients are ready.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Elissa tied on an apron, rolled up her sleeves, and began working at the counter, preparing to bake cookies for Locke.

In the living room, the landline rang. The servant answered the call promptly. “Hello?”

A voice on the other end said something that left her confused. “What do you mean? Who is this? Hello? Hello?” There was no reply. The line went dead.

The servant hung up, frowning. “That was strange.”

“What happened?” Elissa asked, glancing over. “Who was it?”

This was a private island owned by the Scott family, and access was restricted. Only a handful of people knew the number to the landline—primarily the Scotts.

Elissa wondered, “Was it Mr. Scott?”

Maybe Eric had called to let her know that Ernest had stopped searching for her. If that were the case, she and Locke could leave soon.

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But—

“No,” the servant replied, shaking her head. She still looked puzzled. “I’m not sure who it was. Said something odd.”

“What was it?”

“It sounded like… ‘Abby Holland is critically ill,’ or something like that.”

Elissa’s heart skipped a beat. Abby? Or—Addy?

Realizing the mix-up, she quickly corrected, “Could it have been Addy?”

“Oh!” The servant nodded at once. “Yes, that’s it! It must’ve been ‘Addy’—not Abby.”

The more she replayed it in her head, the more certain she became. It had to be a “d” and not—

“Who is Addy? Addy Holland is critically ill—what does that even mean?” the servant mumbled, only then realizing something. Holland. Elissa’s last name was Holland too.

She glanced at Elissa, startled by the change in her expression. Elissa looked pale. Her entire body tensed.

Her grandfather… was sick? How serious was it now? A cold weight settled in her chest. Her thoughts spun. Dread crept up her spine.

.

.

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