by Sara Saedi
I never thought prom night would end with us hiding in the panic room. Wylie and I had slaved away in the kitchen for hours. Everything was going great. I didn’t even really care when Phinn and Wylie were crowned king and queen instead of Maz and me. But then an explosion went off and the girls all had to hide. No one was hurt and no one went missing, but we know it was a warning from Hopper. He’s going to come back again and we might not be so lucky the next time. Everyone trusts Phinn will keep us safe, but no one ever talks about what he did to the lost kids. He’s to blame for what happened to them. No one will say it, but it’s the truth. He was awful to them. Charlotte didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Neither did the others. Of course, I would never say anything like that out loud. He’d probably lock me up on the Forbidden Side and throw away the key.
The last entry was written just a week before Lola went missing:
I’m such an idiot. Wylie wanted to seal up the floorboards to the panic room and I said I would help her. Ugh. I know better. I just got swept up in the whole idea and I thought about how much Charlotte would have loved it, too. I should have talked her out of it and instead I helped her rally all the girls. Who knows? Maybe I secretly want to be exiled. Anyway, Phinn walked in on us hammering at the basement door and he completely lost it. He even yelled at Wylie, so I told him it was all my idea. I’m not going to lose another friend because of him. Maz was so mad at me afterward. I think he was just afraid for me. And I don’t blame him. I guess I’m afraid for me too. Maybe if I cook Phinn some chipney-onion cakes for dinner, he’ll forgive me. Yeah, right. He doesn’t forgive anyone.
Wylie thought back to when Lola made her swear not to tell Phinn of their late-night discussions about the mainland. Even then, Lola sounded like she was afraid of Phinn, and now the journal confirmed it. She tore out a few blank pages and slipped the diary under the mattress. She placed a pen in her back pocket, moved the chair from under the knob, and walked out the door with purpose. Once she’d arrived at her destination, she pounded on the bungalow door with both fists.
“Tinka!” she called. “Let me in!”
“Go away!” Tinka shouted back.
“Not until you open the door!” Wylie was prepared to knock and yell until her knuckles bled and her voice gave out.
“I haven’t let anyone in here for almost a week. Why would I make an exception for you, of all people?”
“Because it’s important.”
“Not to me.”
Wylie used her pen and scribbled I think Phinn is hiding something on a piece of paper. She slipped it under Tinka’s door and finally heard some movement. The door opened a crack and Tinka pressed her face against the small opening. She crumpled the paper into a ball, placed it inside her mouth, and spit it out at Wylie.
“This is me not giving a shit,” she replied.
Just as she moved to close the door, Wylie placed her foot in the frame and pushed it all the way open. It slammed behind her as she barged into the room.
“Get out!” Tinka shrieked.
The stale air hit Wylie’s nostrils and she nearly gagged. If this was payback for the time Wylie had breathed into Tinka’s face, it was quite the revenge. The bedroom was messier than normal, with art supplies and plates of food strewn around the floor. From the look of Tinka’s greasy hair, Wylie could tell it had been days since she’d showered.
“What?” Tinka asked nonchalantly.
“It’s just a little stuffy in here, that’s all.”
“You don’t say. I’ll crack open a window.”
Tinka pulled the curtains aside and a cool breeze helped fumigate the room as she opened the window.
“You haven’t left your room in seven days?” Wylie asked.
“I’ve left to use the toilet. Micah’s been bringing me food. I can tell Lola’s still missing from the lackluster meals.”
It was typical of Tinka to get in a dig, but Wylie wouldn’t take the bait.
“What are you hiding from?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A psychopath who’s been kidnapping people from the island. I’d say that’s a pretty solid reason to stay inside and sleep with a knife under my pillow. It doesn’t sound like I’ve missed much, aside from a few vigils and some sappy Youth Brigade songs. Those guys are really losing their touch. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to lying in bed and being dead to the world.”
“Do you really think I would be here unless it was absolutely necessary?”
“Right, it’s absolutely necessary because Phinn is hiding something. Phinn is always hiding something. It’s who he is. I’ve learned not to question it.”
“Lola was afraid of him, did you know that?”
Tinka shrugged. “No, but what does that matter?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Hopper didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance.”
“I know she was your friend, but you’re living in a fantasy world. That’s precisely what happened.”
“Do you know why Phinn brought me and my brothers here?”
Tinka lit a stick of incense and held it between two fingers like a cigarette. “I’m bored with this conversation. If you’re having doubts about your boyfriend, his ex isn’t exactly the person you should be talking to.”
“His ex?” Wylie said, letting out a snort. “Phinn says you’re like a little sister to him. He said it’s been years since anything happened between you guys.”
“He said that?” Tinka replied, raising an eyebrow. “Wow. So then, he didn’t tell you that I spent the night with him two days before he brought you to the island?”
“You’re making that up,” Wylie blurted defensively.
“I wish I was.”
Tinka had every reason in the world to lie. And after a week of being cooped up in her room, she was probably in desperate need of a little entertainment. But there was no way Wylie would let herself get derailed by jealousy.
“Whatever happened between you and Phinn before I came here is your business,” Wylie replied stoically. “The only thing I care about right now is whether Phinn’s hiding something about the lost kids. Did he do something to Charlotte before she disappeared?”
“I’m not at liberty to speak about that.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Lola wrote in her journal that it was his fault they all went missing.”
“You read Lola’s diary? That’s an elder move.”
“I was looking for clues.”
“Aww, cute. You’re like a detective now.”
“I need to know what else he’s hiding.”
“Why? Why do you care?”
“Because . . .” Wylie wasn’t sure how to answer the question.
“I’m waiting.”
Wylie’s silence whipped Tinka into action. She slammed the window shut and closed the curtains. She put out the stick of incense and crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over her. After letting out a dramatic yawn, she closed her eyes and pretended to snore.
“Because I want to know who I’m in love with,” Wylie finally admitted. Tinka opened her eyes.
“No, you don’t. Trust me. I don’t know why Phinn brought you and your brothers here, but ignorance is bliss, Wylie. If I were you, I’d leave here right now and go back to your bungalow and forget about what you read in Lola’s little diary. She was always too introspective for my taste anyway.”
Wylie glanced around the bedroom. Some of the walls were now covered in Micah’s artwork. He’d drawn a gorgeous portrait of Tinka wading in the lagoon, but his interpretation of her was much more delicate than the tough and abrasive girl Wylie had come to know. And then Wylie saw it again: the photograph of Tinka and Phinn from prom night. Tinka had taken it from the dining room and placed it right next to her bed. Except now, she spotted something she hadn’t noticed the first time she looked at the picture. Tinka’s ch
est was adorned with a small antique hand mirror hanging from a silver chain. The same necklace Wylie was wearing right now.
“What did he say to you right before that photo was taken?” Wylie asked.
Tinka shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
“Sure you do. What did he say to you?”
Tinka looked away. “He said that I was beyond—”
“—compare,” Wylie finished her sentence. “I guess he says that to all the girls.”
“Why did you come here? To break my heart all over again?”
“I came here because I didn’t have anyone else to go to.” Wylie paused for a moment, then pointed at Micah’s drawing.
“It’s really beautiful, the way he sees you,” she said. “I know he doesn’t see anyone else that same way.”
Tinka didn’t respond. She wiped the corners of her eyes, grabbed the knife from under her pillow, sat up, and put on a pair of beat-up sneakers.
“Fine. You asked for it. You want to know the truth? Come with me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
sketch artist
wylie nearly had to jog to keep up with Tinka as they trekked through the parvaz field, moved around the perimeter of the island, then made a sharp right turn that led them to another trail. The ground was muddy and slippery from the recent rain and Wylie wished she’d brought her galoshes to the island.
“Why can’t we take a parvaz?” Wylie asked. “We’ll get there so much faster if we fly.”
“I can’t touch that stuff anymore,” Tinka reminded her.
“Right, sorry.”
“And anyway, we can’t risk anyone seeing us, so stop complaining. I’m armed and dangerous,” Tinka replied.
Tinka may have brought along the knife as a weapon, but the deeper they moved into the trail, the more she needed it to clear sharp branches and leaves out of their way. Wylie, winded, tried to catch her breath. She’d been wrong to think flying actually counted as a form of exercise. After all this was over, she’d start a workout regimen that did not include mixing basketball with parvaz. She referred to her compass throughout the hike, but keeping track of every direction they moved in had quickly become out of the question.
“Are you just taking me to some quiet and secluded place so you can murder me?” Wylie asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Nah. You’re not worth getting exiled for.”
Wylie’s shoe caught on a rock, which flung her forward and onto the ground. She landed with a thud and let out a small cry. She half expected Tinka to keep walking, but she actually turned around to check on her.
“You okay?” Tinka asked, offering a hand.
Wylie grabbed Tinka’s hand and she pulled her up. Mud was caked in Wylie’s hair and all over her clothes.
“I’m fine.”
They continued to hike to their mystery destination. As the minutes ticked by, Tinka started humming quietly to herself. Wylie had to listen closely to place the melody. It was the song “I Am a Rock” by Simon and Garfunkel. When she was growing up, her dad used to sing it to her and her brothers when they couldn’t fall asleep.
“Did Micah teach you that song?” Wylie asked.
Tinka shook her head. “No.”
The trail finally came to a dead end, blocked off by trees and thick ivy. Wylie had lost all sense of direction and wasn’t sure what part of the island they were even on. If Tinka abandoned her, Wylie would have no idea how to find her way home.
“Wait here for a minute,” Tinka directed. “I want to make sure no one else is around.”
She pushed her hands into the ivy and pulled it apart, peeking through the other side.
“We’re good. Squeeze in.”
It was easier for Tinka to fit her compact body through the plants. She stood on the other side of the blockade and helped Wylie through, but the vines and branches still scratched at her face and skin. On the other side of the shrubbery, they found a lone bungalow. It was made of logs and looked far more secure than the rooms they bunked in. There were no windows or doors.
“Where are we?” Wylie asked.
“Phinn’s man cave or secret lair. I prefer ‘secret lair.’ It’s way more badass,” Tinka said. “Don’t worry. Only a few people know about it.”
“Has he brought you here before?”
Tinka let out a laugh. “Once. But you don’t want to know what we did inside. He’s never brought me back, though.”
“How on earth did you remember how to get here?”
“Being a borderline obsessive stalker comes with its advantages.”
Tinka walked up to the bungalow and felt around the logs. There was no discernible entrance. She leaned her body against a wall, but nothing budged.
“I’ve never tried to get in before,” she admitted.
“Then how do you know for sure there’s anything secret in here?”
“It’s in the middle of nowhere on an island that’s already in the middle of nowhere. It has no windows or doors. I can assure you, he doesn’t store party supplies in here.”
“Why haven’t you ever gone in to snoop before?”
Tinka fumbled over a loose log. She pushed it forward and a small door opened into a pitch-black room.
“If Phinn ever found out I was in here, he’d probably never forgive me. Are you coming?” she asked as she tiptoed inside.
Go in there, Wylie told herself. Do it for Lola. Do it for your brothers. Who cares if Phinn never forgives you? She stepped inside and the door instantly shut behind them, leaving them in the dark. Tinka struck a match and used the flame to light a nearby kerosene lamp. The cavelike space was circular in shape with a small table at its center, surrounded by stools. A map of the island was on the wall, and curtains had been hung to block out any cracks between the logs. Wylie spied wooden file cabinets and a stack of newspapers from the mainland. The one on top was from February, the day she and Phinn had met.
Tinka pulled at a file cabinet, but it was locked.
“Typical Phinn. Always so paranoid.”
She tried to pick the lock with her knife, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Are you going to help me find a key or what?” she asked Wylie.
“Forget it. Let’s go,” Wylie said. “So he’s got a place where he conducts business. I was stupid to think he was hiding anything. Sorry I made you drag me all the way out here.”
“I think you’re just afraid,” Tinka said with a trace of kindness.
“Of what?”
“Of what you might find in here. And what it might mean.”
“I’m not afraid,” Wylie insisted. “We can snoop if you want, but it’ll just be a waste of time.”
It only took a few minutes for them to locate the set of keys that opened all the locks. Tinka found them stuck under the table. Figuring out which key belonged to which lock was a much more excruciating process. When they finally unlocked the first file cabinet, they gave each other a spontaneous high five.
“Finally!” Tinka cheered.
“Okay, before we look inside,” Wylie said, “I think we should make a pact. If we don’t find anything suspicious, then Phinn never has to know either one of us was in here. It stays between us. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“You weren’t crossing your fingers, were you?” Wylie asked.
Tinka placed her palms out in front of her.
“Nope.”
Wylie opened the drawer and found it filled to the brim with cell phones. Her phone rested on top of the pile. Wylie wished the battery wasn’t dead so she could turn it on. She wondered why Phinn didn’t let them at least use the cameras on their phones. Maybe he would reconsider once they ran out of Polaroid film. Underneath the Daltons’ phones, the cell phone technology quickly devolved into the past. Wylie spotted a few flip phones and one brick phone that
looked larger than her head.
“This one’s Micah’s, isn’t it?” Tinka asked, pulling out a more recent phone in a skull-and-crossbones case.
“Yup,” Wylie answered, a shiver going down her spine. She couldn’t help thinking how often her parents had tried to call or text since they’d gone missing.
“I wish I could take it to him. He misses it so much,” Tinka said.
“We can’t steal anything. It’ll give us away.”
Tinka reluctantly tossed the phone back in the drawer.
Some of the other drawers were filled with more outdated gadgets from the mainland: a Game Boy, a Discman, even a bulky old laptop. Phinn had kept organized files on each of his recruits with the dates he’d brought them to the island, along with their medical records and other tidbits of information he’d kept track of. Wylie was surprised to see up-to-date notes on where all of their families currently lived. Phinn must have carved out time for research on his trips to the mainland.
“Wow,” Tinka said. She slid Bailey’s folder over to Wylie. It included a printout of an obituary. Her mother had died of cancer ten years prior.
“Do you think she knows?” Wylie asked.
Tinka shook her head. “I don’t think she’d want to know.”
They’d been poring over the files for at least an hour, and they still needed enough time to get back to the clinic for their daily birth control. Ever since Tinka had become a recluse, Patrick and Aldo had started making house calls to give her the Pill.
“It’s not the first time I’ve refused to leave my bungalow for days at a time,” Tinka confessed.
Wylie took great care in putting the files back exactly as they had found them. Phinn was meticulous enough that if one piece of paper was out of place or if one file wasn’t in alphabetical order, he’d know someone had been going through his drawers. Though Wylie was disappointed not to find any clues concerning Lola’s disappearance, she also felt a sense of relief as they stuck the keys back under the table. Nothing they had found was all that shocking or unforgivable. Phinn was simply running a very tight ship.
