I suddenly feel an even deeper aversion to the house. I grab Chase’s hand as Mila walks ahead. “Tell me the truth,” I whisper. “What did you see in the tarot card? It scared you. AndMila saw something on the water. She wasn’t accusing you of hiding things before. Or blaming Kennedy.”
He avoids my eyes. “It brought up a bad memory, that’s all. It doesn’t change anything. It was still an accident. It wasn’t Kennedy’s fault. Or Mila’s, or mine, or yours. Sometimes people just need someone to blame.”
“What about Ryan?” I add anxiously.
He sighs, and I think I can detect a hint of bitterness in it. Even in a moment like this, the tension between them is palpable. “No one ever suspected Ryan.”
A chill runs down my spine. “Should they?”
He doesn’t answer. But as he disappears into the house after Mila, I see a flash of movement in the corner of my eye and whirl around to find myself face-to-face with Ryan. His hair and clothes are disheveled, his expression stony, and he looms over me like a shadow.
“You tell me, Chelsea,” he says darkly. “Should you?”