Chelsea went missing the night before she was supposed to get married. That was one of the reasons the police had remained so intently focused on Adam as a suspect. But it turned out that Ami was the person behind Chelsea’s disappearance. She’d attempted to murder Chelsea, and when she couldn’t finish the job, her accomplice, Jennifer Weston, stepped in. Jennifer did what Ami could not, and together they disposed of the body. Both probably would have gotten away with it—they’d eluded detection for over four years—but then I’d come along. And all hell broke loose.
As I’d gotten closer and closer to the truth, Ami had sought to derail me. She’d even flown out to LA and sent my ex-boyfriend to the island to try and lure me away. But nothing could keep me from seeking the truth. I longed for closure for the people on this island, people I grew close to while researching and investigating the case.
When I learned too much, it was Ami who tricked me into going down to the old, abandoned lighthouse on the southern tip of the island. There, she confessed everything. And then she tried to kill me.
So, yeah, sitting here now I fought the urge to toss the envelope into the fire. What good could possibly come out of a correspondence from my former best friend? But curiosity—forever my weakness—got the best of me.
The letter looked innocuous enough. Just a plain business-sized envelope with what felt like folded paper inside. I couldn’t, however, imagine what reason Ami would have for contacting me. I wasn’t sure she was even permitted to do so, and that made me all the more suspicious. I thought it over, tapped the letter on the floor.
At Willow Point, Ami was receiving treatment for her mental issues. Maybe this was part of a recovery process? Offer an apology of some sort to help the patient move on, that sort of thing.
Whatever, I said to myself as I tore open the letter.
Two photocopied newspaper pages tumbled out. Both appeared to be identical. And both were from the same little-known newspaper in Massachusetts, The News Record of Cambridge—the same print operation that had published the article detailing Adam’s suspicious stock transaction from several years earlier.
Adam had once purchased and sold a stock that netted him millions of dollars, all within a matter of months. Unfortunately, the SEC had become suspicious. How did an MIT undergrad make such a perfectly timed trade? That question led to the opening of an investigation. But when no damning evidence was uncovered, the case was closed.
But I’d found out that Adam had traded on insider information, and Chelsea had known it all along. In fact, it was her threat of going to the SEC and offering her testimony that had kept Adam in line. She blackmailed him into staying with her, even after they’d long since fallen out of love. In a desperate, final bid to keep Adam in her clutches forever, Chelsea blackmailed Mr. Ward into agreeing to marry her. Nobody but Adam and I knew the whole story though, so I perused the pages with trepidation.
Where did Ami get these?
Both photocopied pages were exact duplicates of the article I’d found in Adam’s desk drawer back in October when I’d been snooping. How bizarre. The only difference was that these were not yellowed, not originals apparently.
My heart hammered in my chest. How had Ami found this article? And what would it mean that she had? God. Had her ex-lover, Chelsea, shared with her what Adam had once done—traded on insider info? But why send two copies of the exact same newspaper page to me?
I leaned in and took a closer look at the two pages, placing them side by side on the floor in front of the fire. At first glance they appeared identical. I scanned each page furtively, awash in a feeling of queasiness. Okay…same page, same edition, same date. All the surrounding articles were identical as well.
But wait, maybe not.
The article detailing Adam’s stock trade was different. My pulse quickened. The pages weren’t the same after all. Sure, one was an exact copy of the article I’d found in Adam’s desk drawer. But the other told quite a different story.
The one I’d never seen before detailed the particulars of Adam’s fortuitous stock trade. But there was absolutely no mention of any wrongdoing, no words of suspicion, and no reference to an SEC investigation. Nothing like that. In fact, it was a rather glowing write-up of Adam Ward, the MIT wonder student. More in line with the kind of puff piece one might expect from a small publication such as this. So, what the hell did this mean? Why would Ami send these articles? How’d she even know this article existed? What was going on here?
I flipped one page over and found a printed note on the back, a personal note from Ami. It read:
Which one is real, Maddy? Did you not wonder why only a tiny newspaper in Cambridge would publish a sensational story involving insider trading, especially if the accused was a wealthy, brilliant MIT student? Would a story so big remain undiscovered forever? Silly girl! Did you really think Adam would allow you to just happen upon the biggest secret of his life? Put those fine investigative skills back to work. Trouble is brewing. Helena knows something. I suspect Adam does, too. And your dear lover’s future just may depend on you uncovering the real truth. There’s just one catch: don’t tell Adam anything. Not just yet. Come visit me at Willow Point—I’ll give you the next piece of the puzzle. Tick tock, the clock is ticking.
