*Shelby*The sun started setting as Lin, Aubrey, and I finally got up from our lounge chairs under the beach cabana. We’d spent the entire afternoon talking about old times, drinking cocktails, and eating our body weight in fresh fruit.“I don’t know how we’re possibly going to fit another bite of food in after that lunch,” Aubrey said, rubbing her stomach.“Oh, I promise you’ll be able to find the room as soon as we sit down for dinner. I’ve discovered you actually have a second stomach on vacation. It’s always right there, ready to go just when you think you’ll never be able to eat again,” I said.Lin and Aubrey laughed at my comment, and we all linked arms with each other as we made our way back up to the mansion. Our feet continued to sink into the dry sand as we walked, making the journey back feel so much harder than our walk down to the cabana.“Where have you three pretty ladies been all afternoon?” Giani asked, sitting next to the pool with a glass of

*Shelby*When my body collided against the dock’s wooden beams, I was sure I’d broken something. But that was nothing compared to the pain of being dragged over them by this masked man. The rough planks scraped my legs as I tried to stand and get myself free from his grip.“Stop! What are you doing?” I screamed, and the man turned toward me and smacked me in the head, quickly inserting a piece of cloth into my mouth and tying the ends to the back of my head.My head began to throb in the place he’d hit me, and I felt him reaching around my body with a prickly material.It was rope, the one used to tie up the boats. With a strong twist that pressed my hands together, he had me tied up. He then pushed me back to the ground, tying up my legs.I wiggled and thrashed around, trying to make it hard for him to move me, but it was useless. He was so much stronger than me.As if I weighed no more than a sack of clothes, he slung me over his shoulders and roughly tossed me onto a boa

*Shelby*I shook violently as I scrambled to look over the side of the boat, only to see the water gurgling in the place where Blaine and Michael had fallen in.“MICHAEL!” I screamed, still trying to loosen the ropes tying my hands together. The desperation with which I twisted and pulled worked, and I managed to set them free. I quickly untied my legs and was about to jump in the water when I heard splashes and froze. If that was Blaine…In a split second, I saw that it was Michael’s arm that appeared on the side of the boat, holding on to the metal rail. “Michael!” I screamed again, reaching out to him. Pulling at his soaking shirt, I helped him up, and he collapsed on the boat. Pinkish stains covered his formerly white shirt, and I patted him frantically as he coughed and spit water.“Did he shoot you!? Are you alright?!” I cried out, mumbling more questions until he finally shook his head.He took several deep breaths as he struggled to si

*Michael*When we landed in New York, we were greeted by a police car waiting for us right outside. Shelby wasn’t too happy about it, but I had to reassure her that their interest in me was more of a formality than anything else.With the details provided by the police in the Bahamas, they had finally been able to locate Blaine’s apartment. “We’d like you to come see it before we gather everything to take in as evidence,” the police officer said. “You can follow us in your car. It won’t take long.”“This would’ve been much more useful BEFORE Blaine killed someone and managed to leave the country,” I said, a little too harshly. It wasn’t this specific man’s fault, but one of the reasons Blaine had been able to go on for so long was because the police and the FBI had done a terrible job of cooperating with each other. “We know, sir. We did everything we could, but unfortunately, it was too late.”“Do you want me to come with you?” Shelby asked me, he

*Shelby**Two Weeks Later*The doorbell echoed down the foyer of the townhouse, pulling me from the world that had enveloped me as I read. I set the book down on the couch cushion next to me and padded to the foyer, my fuzzy socks sliding slightly on the wood floor. “Hello, ma’am. That will be fifty-six dollars,” the pizza delivery boy said.I reached for my wallet, sitting on the entryway table, and pulled out the cash.“Thank you so much,” I said, handing the boy the money and awkwardly shuffling the boxes into my arms.“No, thank you!” he said, pocketing his tip with a smile.I closed the door behind me, clicking the lock back into place. “Michael, pizza’s here!” I called down the hallway on my way to the kitchen. “Come on. It’s Friday night. Time to take a break from work.”Michael had been swamped with work ever since we returned from the Bahamas. At least, that’s what he told me. Part of me suspected he was purposely burying himself