“What’s on the video?” I said, as if I hadn’t watched it multiple times. Ash clicked on the link titled Girlfriend of Missing Swimmer’s DESPERATE Plea and I watched the screen fill with the already familiar image of two women. The one on the right, the reporter, had immaculate hair and makeup, her ruby-red lips poised to ask a question, the creases in her crisp white shirt sharp as a knife’s edge. The woman on the left was Lily. The first time I’d watched the clip, I’d immediately identified her as a “surfer chick,” with her slight but muscular frame and long, blond, windswept hair. Her features were perfectly proportioned, and although her delicate nose, cat eyes and pink lips didn’t have a trace of foundation, blush or mascara, she was undeniably and effortlessly beautiful, on camera, and even more so in real life. When Ash pressed Play, Lily’s expression turned from helpless to terrified.
“Lily, thank you for talking to us,” the reporter said, her voice gentle and coaxing, the exact mix to get anyone to spill their guts. “I understand your boyfriend, Jack Smith, went missing yesterday evening while swimming at this very beach.”
Lily nodded, swallowing hard before quietly saying, “He was supposed to come to my place, but I assumed he was working late.” Her voice was soft as a lullaby, and she swallowed again, her lips trembling. “When he didn’t show up this morning, I knew...I knew...”
“What did you know, Lily?” the reporter nudged. “Can you share with our viewers?”
“I knew he was in trouble.” Lily put a fist to her mouth and bowed her head, pressing her eyes shut, trying to contain her sobs.
“You told me earlier Jack’s a strong swimmer?”
Lily’s voice filled with hope. “Yes, very. He swims almost every day.”
The reporter leaned in, a pained and no doubt meticulously rehearsed expression on her face. “What would you like to say to everybody who’s watching? How can they help?”
“If you’re out on the water, please, please look for him. Help me bring Jack home.”
The camera zoomed in on the reporter’s face. “Such a devastating story of this missing man, Jack Smith. We’ll, of course, bring you the latest developments, and...” Her voice trailed off as I stopped listening, because a picture of Ash appeared on the screen, the one that had made me gasp. I’d never seen this particular photo before, and while he looked the same—his grin, the way his hair fell to one side—he also appeared different. Relaxed and happy. Free.
Ash paused the video and looked up at me. “Lily’s telling the truth. I was living under the name Jack Smith in Maryland. And guess what? There’s a more recent update. Apparently, there was a boat out on the water around the time I went missing.” He gave his head a shake, tapped his temple with an index finger. “This whole amnesia thing might be because someone ran into me. Oh, and I’m presumed dead, by the way. Can you believe it?” He didn’t wait for my answer and continued, “You should’ve told me about her calling you—”
“I didn’t make the connection.”
“Fine, but I need to contact the police down there, tell them I’m okay.”
“What? You can’t.”
“I have to. They think I’m dead.”
“Have they arrested anyone?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but—”
“Then leave it.” I held up a hand as he opened his mouth to respond, and my mind sped up. “You were living there under a fake name. They’ll have figured that out by now. What if they want to bring you in for questioning? Or worse, get the local police involved? With your history surrounding Celine and Kate, what if they think it’s suspicious?”
“Why would anything be suspicious?” He raised his voice, the veins in his neck pulsating. “You said I was cleared. When I left Newdale, nobody suspected me of anything.”
“Officially, no,” I said, which was the truth. “But who knows what some idiot cop might be thinking, especially with Keenan shooting his mouth off. Him and Ricky—”
“Ricky?”
“The local cop. He’s good friends with Keenan.”
“For crying out loud,” Ash shouted, his face turning red. “What the hell am I supposed to do with all this? How am I supposed to live? And what about Lily? What if she told the cops about finding me already?”
“She’s coming over soon, we’ll ask her then.”
“Providing it’s not too late and they’re not on their way already.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
He let out a half laugh, his teeth clenched. “How can I if I don’t remember anything, and the little I do is mostly a pile of crap? Doesn’t it freak you out, sharing a house with me? I’m clearly a liar, Maya, and an angry one at that. Doesn’t that worry you, at all?”
I stared at him. “No. Not in the least. I know you. You’re angry because of the situation, because of your memory. That’s all. This isn’t who you are.”
“Isn’t it?” he snapped. “Then why do I feel like it is?” He shook his head, his shoulders falling. “I need to get out for a bit before Lily arrives. Get my head straight so I can figure out what to say to her, and what she might say to me. I can’t believe I didn’t ask her to come with us to see Dr. Adler. I can’t believe I left her there in the middle of the street. What was I thinking?”
“You probably weren’t. We were all in shock.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” he said, and after putting on his shoes he came over and stood in front of me, looking uncertain about what to do next. I pulled him in for a hug, felt him hesitate before he tentatively put his arms around me, making me want to hug him harder, and when I rested my cheek on his chest, I could hear the beating of his heart.
“Stay away from the cliffs,” I murmured.
Ash took a step back and
