4

Olivia watched while her bags were deposited in her room. "Thank you." She nodded at Jesse and he took her pensive expression to mean she wanted to be left alone. She went and stared out the window. Not at the windows overlooking the ocean-blue and brilliant in the afternoon sun-but at the tiny side window that overlooked town. The Victorian houses of the "haves" part of town. She couldn't see the shacks of the "have not" part of town from her window. But that is what she was seeing. A three-room shack butted right up against the slimy swamp. With a sidewalk built up through the flood grass like a wood dock so that they wouldn't sink into the marsh anytime they went in and out. She pictured all the shacks in that part of town. The paint faded and chipping but colorful turquoises, purples, neon pinks like little orchid blossoms in an otherwise dark and dank green landscape. People trying to eke out something of beauty in a harsh environment.

Olivia was startled by the telephone. She made her way to the bedside. "Yes," she inquired.

"You left ussssssssssssss here." The voice on the other end was an eerie whisper, neither male nor female, sibilant like a snake.

"All alone to rot like everything else in the ."

Heart beating so fast it felt like a tiny bird was trapped in her chest she ripped the cord from the wall. The phone rang again. Unplugged. Olivia knew better than to answer it. But she also knew she had no choice.

"You won't esssssssssssssccape thissssssssssssss time."

Cranesbill Island had haunted Olivia in her dreams and nightmares for the past 20 years. Sometimes, it would even intrude on ordinary afternoons, rehearsals, and fancy dinners and leave her breathless and shaking. She was guilt ridden about what she had seen and what she had done. She was expecting something truly awful to happen while she was here. The fact that she was invited back here for the 20th anniversary of the-events-was not a coincidence. Someone knew who she was. Someone knew who she used to be. Someone-human or not-intended to make her pay.

And they should. She deserved it. That's why, finally, she had agreed to come. It wasn't the sheriff's threats or the Mayor's blackmail. Ultimately, it was her guilt. It was time to pay the piper.

Still, every instinct told her to run.

To collect herself, Olivia eventually made her way into the bathroom, plugged the tub, turned it to hot, and sank into the steamy water. She pulled the shower curtain around her to block out the sun streaming in from the balcony. It was too much for her right now. She was still back in the cool, damp shade of the swamp.

A while later Olivia was startled by a knock on the bathroom door. Jesse. "Miss Wharton, we have to leave for the interview you promised in fifteen minutes. I'll wait for you downstairs."

Olivia groaned. Sylvia. Sylvia still ran Cranesbill's newspaper. It was hard to keep a secret from Sylvia.

She stood and pulled back the curtain and then let out a shuddering scream. The words Welcome Home had been traced in the steam on the bathroom mirror. The words looked like they were bleeding.

She yanked the curtain closed and sank back into the tub trying with all her might not to cry. If her eyes weren't closed she might have noticed a black shadow moving on the other side of the curtain.

It took a few deep breaths and some unconvincing attempts to tell herself this was just a case of her overactive imagination before he legs stopped shaking enough to let her stand. She pulled the curtain back and the words were gone. They had been wiped off the mirror so that only the edges still held the evidence of the steam. Someone had wiped the mirror while she had been in the tub.

She rushed out of the bathroom and into her bedroom and let out a scream as she ran right into