Элизабет Чандлер: Evercrossed

AFTER HE AWOKE, HE THOUGHT FOR A LONG TIME.

There was no hope. And when there was no hope, there were two choices: despair or revenge.

The cowardly and powerless despaired. He would revenge. Revenge ‐ the word itself gave him strength. But he must be careful, clever. There were things he didnʹt know, things he couldnʹt remember. He remembered the words, but not where they came from ‐ some old book, It didnʹt matter; he made the words his own: ʺVengeance is mine.ʺ If he hadnʹt lost his heart, the words would have been inscribed on it:

Vengeance is mine.

Vengeance is mine.

Vengeance is mine.

ʹLISTEN. ITʹS SO EERIE.ʺ

The night mist, smelling as salty as the ocean, swirled around Ivy and her best friend, Beth. The old‐fashioned yard swing on which they sat creaked to a halt.

ʺListen,ʺ Dhanya said again. ʺIt’s moaning.ʺ ʺGet a grip, Dhanya,ʺ Kelsey replied.

She was sprawled on a white Adirondack chair between the swing and the cottage doorstep, where Dhanya sat. ʺHavenʹt you ever heard a foghorn?ʺ

ʺOf course I have. But tonight it sounds so sad, like itʹs—ʺ

ʺMoaning. . mourning. . soughing. . sighing, wailing, waiting for her lover who will never return from the sea,ʺ Beth said, then reached in her pocket and pulled out a small notepad and pen to scribble down the foghornʹs contribution to her next romantic epic.

Kelsey threw back her head and hooted. ʺYou havenʹt changed, Beth. Even carrying around that old clicking pen. Why donʹt you type on your iPhone?ʺ

ʺHere?ʺ Beth replied. ʺWhere famous writers have scribbled on paper by the light of hurricane lamps burning whale oil, as rain mercilessly lashed their shingled shacks, and not far from their door the wild surf—ʺ

ʺAll right, all right,ʺ Kelsey said, waving an impatient leg at her cousin. ʺI get it.ʺ

Ivy laughed. Beth glanced sideways and laughed with her.

Since their arrival on Cape Cod four days ago, it seemed to Ivy that Beth and Will, Ivyʹs boyfriend, were continually checking to see how she responded to things. Ivy suspected that she wasnʹt the only one thinking about Tristanʹs anniversary at the end of June. Ivy had loved Tristan more than anyone or anything in the world. Her joy with him was like nothing she had ever experienced. His love for her felt like a miracle. But June 25 marked one year from the start of last summerʹs nightmare, one year from the night that Ivyʹs stepbrother, Gregory, had tried to murder her and killed Tristan instead.

ʺFog is so creepy,ʺ Dhanya went on, ʺthe way it slowly invades a place, the way it hides things.ʺ

It had been foggy the autumn afternoon that Gregory had died, plunging to his death from a railroad bridge. At the end, his desire to destroy Ivy had been so intense, heʹd overlooked his own danger.

Now a menacing rumble caused Beth to glance over her shoulder. ʺWas that thunder?ʺ Kelsey sighed. ʺI wish it would storm and get it over with;ʺ ʺWhereʹs Will?ʺ Beth asked Ivy, sounding worried.

ʺPainting,ʺ she replied, glancing in the direction of the barn, where Will was staying.

The renovated barn — part of Seabright Inn was only fifty yards from the girlsʹ cottage. Tonight, with Will as its only occupant and his window facing away from the cottage, the building appeared dark. Across the garden, the lit windows of the main house were yellow smudges in the fog.

ʺI hate this weather,ʺ Kelsey said, pulling on her long auburn hair as if she could straighten it. She tossed it behind her shoulders. ʺIʹm getting a bad case of frizz. So are you, Ivy.ʺ Ivy smiled and shrugged. Her hair was always a yellow tangle.

ʺI canʹt believe Aunt Cindy didnʹt put cable in the cottage,ʺ Kelsey continued her complaint. ʺIʹm not going to watch TV in the ʹcommon roomʹ with her hooked rugs and old china and flowers! She canʹt blame me if I go into Chatham and party.ʺ

ʺItʹs almost midnight, and you wonʹt be able to see the road in front of your Jeep — not in this fog,ʺ Dhanya told her best friend. ʺWill has cable in the barn,ʺ she added. ʺIf heʹs painting, we should leave him alone,ʺ said Beth.

Pink flashes of lightning lit the western sky. The thunder sounded louder, closer. Kelsey grimaced. ʺThis kind of night isnʹt good for any thing but a sports bar or a séance.ʺ

ʺA séance, thatʹs a great idea!ʺ Dhanya replied. ʺIʹll get out my Ouija board.ʺ

Ivy felt Beth shift uncomfortably in the swing. ʺThink Iʹll pass,ʺ Beth told them.

ʺMe, too,ʺ Ivy said, seeing her friendʹs uneasiness. She guessed that for Kelsey and Dhanya, communicating with spirits was a party game, but it wasnʹt for Beth, who was psychic and last year had often sensed the danger Ivy was in.

ʺPass? Why?ʺ Kelsey challenged them. ʺAre séance too middle school for you Connecticut girls?ʺ

ʺNo. Too real,ʺ Beth replied. Kelsey raised an eyebrow but didnʹt say anything. Dhanya rose to her feet. She was pretty and petite, with long, silky hair and exotic eyes that were nearly black. ʺIʹm good at séances and other psychic kinds of stuff. People at school are always asking me to do Tarot readings.ʺ

ʺYeah,ʺ Kelsey said, swinging her long, athletic legs down from the aim of the lawn chair. ʺDhanya was the star of my sleepovers.ʺ Kelsey walked over to the swing and pulled Ivy to her feet. ʺCome on. You, too, Beth. Donʹt be a party pooper,ʺ she told her cousin.

When Kelsey and Dhanya had entered the cottage. Ivy turned to Beth. ʺItʹll be okay,ʺ she said quietly. “I havenʹt told them about last summer, about Tristan or Gregory — or anything else.ʹ

Ivy nodded. She could imagine Kelseyʹs astonishment if they told her that Tristan had come back as an angel to protect her from Gregory and that Beth had been the first to communicate with him.

Ivy and Beth would never hear the end of it. ʺTheyʹre just fooling around.ʺ

It doesnʹt bother you?ʺ Beth searched Ivyʹs face, her forehead creased with concern.

When they first met two winters earlier, Ivy had thought Beth looked like a sweet‐faced owl. Bethʹs face was thinner now, and her layers of leathery light brown hair had grown out and been styled in a sleek dun‐length cut but her blue eyes were still as large and round as an owlʹs, especially when she worried.

Several months back. Ivy had seen through her friendʹs sales pitch for spending the summer on Cape Cod. Beth and Kelseyʹs aunt recently divorced, can her inn on a tight budget In exchange for their work. Aunt Cindy, as they all were asked to call her, offered them a modest salary and a place 10 five just minutes from the ocean, a bay, salt marshes, bike trails. . According to Beth, It was the perfect way to spend their last summer together before college. But it was a summer away from Connecticut that Beth had most wanted for Ivy, Will, and herselfIvy knew that. Her best friend was determined to get them away from the dark memories of last summer.

ʺAre you coming or not?ʺ Kelsey called back to them.

ʺThe more we say no, the more theyʹll insist,ʺ Ivy whispered to Beth. ʺJust play along.ʺ ʺComing,ʺ Beth replied to her cousin. They entered the shingled cottage, which had two rooms on the first floor, a living room and, directly behind it, a kitchen with a large hearth, where Kelsey was waiting for them. Ivy and Beth cleared the kitchen table, while Dhanya retrieved the Ouija board from under her bed upstairs. Kelsey searched the cupboards and drawers for candles.