“I know you’re out there.” Gigi returned to the spot where she had found the bag. No matter how many times she shouted the words to the ocean, there was no response.

“I know you can hear me. I know you’re there.” Time was running out. Her ride off the island was leaving at noon. “I’m going to tell Grayson you’re on Hawthorne Island,” she warned, raising her voice. “Because if you’re here, it’s probably because Eve sent you, right?”

Gigi didn’t really know who Eve was, other than that she was young, rich, and had a twisted connection to the Hawthorne family. Grayson had warned Gigi to stay away from her as well.

“If Eve sent you here, that can’t be good, right? And I have a moral obligation to say something! I don’t know why I haven’t already. It’s not like I’m any good at keeping secrets. I hate secrets.” Gigi swallowed. “I hate this.”

She hadn’t allowed herself to think those words even once in the past seventeen months.

“And you!” Gigi added loudly. “I hate you very much, just for good measure.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew the remains of the necklace—all of it but the bug. She hurled it into the ocean.

“The bug I’ll give to Xander,” she warned.

No response. The wind whipped at Gigi’s hair. She started to turn—and a hand clamped over her mouth from behind.

The hand held a rag. The rag smelled sweet—sickly sweet, terribly sweet. Gigi fought, but his other arm immobilized her.

“Easy there, sunshine.”