Page 30 of Whispers of the Lake

“Emily,” she replied bashfully, placing her head on her dad’s shoulder.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Emily,” I cooed. “Well, I’m going to get going. Thank you for the water and for taking time to speak with me, Eddie. I really appreciate it.”

“ ’Course. No problem.”

“I’m thirsty, Daddy.”

Eddie smiled at Emily, then gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be much help, but I hope you figure things out. If you need anything else, I’m only a knock away.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I walked away as Eddie started asking Emily if she was hungry too.

I thought about going back to the cottage, but I gave another glance at the house in the trees. The Abbots. Though I doubted they’d be of more help than Eddie was, I walked in the direction of their home anyway.

Eve Castillo journal entry

I’ve been having weird dreams.

Last night, I dreamt I was under water. For some reason, I’m not in my own body. I can see myself . . . all of me. I’m under water and my leg is caught on something and I can’t free myself from it. I look up where the sun is shining. I see people splashing around. I hear them having so much fun. Someone leans over a platform and looks right at me, pointing. I open my mouth and bubbles come out as I try to call for help.

I try to swim up but whatever is wrapped around my ankle is holding on tighter and dragging me down. Then I panic because I can’t breathe. I flap my arms, wanting to reach the surface but I never do.

I’ve had this dream two nights in a row. I can’t help wondering if it means my life has become too much—or that I’ve become too much. I ask myself if it’s because I feel like I’m drowning now. Could this mean that when people see me struggling, they don’t care enough to save me?

I don’t blame them.

I can’t even save myself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Abbots had a lovely home made of wood with cream shutters and a metal roof. It was hard not to notice how well-kept it was. Their house appeared nearly as old as Twilight Oaks, and it too seemed to have gone through a few renovations over the years. A maroon Buick was parked in the driveaway to my left. Another car was beside it, concealed with a gray covering.

I took the rocky footpath that led to their front door. The stairs of the porch creaked with my weight. Wind chimes let off a gentle tinkle as I gave the wide porch a once-over. Two wooden rocking chairs, potted flowers, random ceramic figurines that never made any sense to me. Why did people need gnomes, frogs, and angels around the outside of their houses? To each their own, but I just never understood it.

I ignored the thought and stepped on their welcome mat, giving the doorbell a ring. There were a few thuds, rapid footsteps, a pause, and then the locks on the door clinked. The door opened halfway to reveal a petite woman with weathered brown skin and gray, shoulder-length curls. She wore a sky-blue dress with tiny black flowers on it and a pair of house slippers with winking eyes. Her hands shook as she pulled the door open a bit wider.

“Can I help you?” she asked. Her voice wavered but was also meek, like she was the shyest person on the planet.

“Hi, Mrs. Abbot. I was just at Eddie’s house next door. He told me your name. I’m Rose Gibson. I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

She glanced past me, blinking her glassy eyes a few times before asking, “What kind of questions?”

“I just want to know if you’ve seen a certain person recently. She was staying in the rental across the lake.”

She stared at me.

I shifted on my feet.

“I can show you a picture,” I offered, breaking the silence. “Of the person I’m looking for.”

She seemed to hesitate, but then nodded and opened the door a little wider. I pulled out my phone once again to show her the image I’d just shown Eddie.

She grabbed her glasses hanging from a string around her neck and placed them on the bridge of her nose. “Oh, yes.” She smiled and her whole face seemed to light up. “I saw her a few days ago. She was a really nice girl.”

“You did?” My heart raced a bit faster. “Do you know how many days exactly since you’ve seen her?”

“I saw her Thursday morning,” she said, nodding. “Thursday, September fifth.”

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