Authors: Sara Saedi
I, Wylie Dalton, solemnly swear to abide by all the rules presented to me in the Minor Island
Handbook. I understand I am not allowed to leave the island of my own accord. I will not cross over into the Forbidden Side. . . .
If the roles were reversed, Lola would cross over for me,
Wylie thought. The fence was high, but with the help of a
parvaz
flower, anyone could easily hop it. Wylie slipped one into her mouth, chewed quickly, and took a deep breath as her feet floated above the ground.
From a bird's-eye view, palm trees and foliage obscured the Forbidden Side. If you were flying right above the island, you couldn't see into it at all. But as Wylie's body slowly rose above the fence she spied a patch of land not much bigger than the Clearing. She glimpsed what looked like a row of empty cages, but before she could maneuver past the barrier to get a closer look, a body crashed into her, knocking her straight to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Phinn asked frantically, pinning her down.
“Nothing!” Wylie responded, trying to catch her breath. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Don't lie to me, Wylie. Why were you over here?”
“I was looking for clues.”
“It's off-limits.”
“Why?”
“Because twelve people went missing on that side of the island!”
“Okay,” Wylie said. “You didn't have to tackle me to the ground.”
Phinn loosened his grip as they both stood up and dusted themselves off.
“I've told you over and over again it's dangerous, but you don't listen.”
“I'm not going to give up on Lola!”
“Well, you're not going to find her here.”
“Says the guy who's lied to me on more than one occasion,” Wylie snapped.
“So that's what this is about.” Phinn held her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “Listen to me. I am not lying to you right now. I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
Wylie let out a sigh and nodded.
“I'm sorry. I just feel so helpless. There's nothing I can do to bring Lola back.”
“Well, you won't be able to find her if you get yourself killed in the process.”
Together they walked back to the memorial. The Clearing was still filled with residents paying their respects to all the kids who had gone missing. The Youth Brigade was performing a new ballad they'd written as a tribute to their lost friends. Lola's disappearance had unearthed all the feelings they'd kept buried for the past few months. It was proof that what had happened to the lost kids wasn't an isolated incident. They were all still at risk, and at any point, one of them could be the next person to disappear.
Wylie didn't want to take part in the vigil at the moment. Aside from Lola, she didn't have personal experience with the friends they were mourning. She didn't want to pretend
she understood the gravity of their pain. And part of her wanted to scream that throwing together a memorial and singing sad songs wasn't going to solve anything.
“I'm going to my room,” Wylie told Phinn.
“I'll come with you.”
“No. I'll be safe there. I want to be by myself.”
The bungalow looked like a time capsule of happier times. Wylie had only been there once since Lola's disappearance, to gather some belongings. Maz, too fragile to comb through Lola's things, had also avoided it.
“Where are you, Loles?” Wylie asked the question out loud as she collapsed on her bed.
Wylie looked at Lola's messy ball of sheets. A few weeks before, they'd had a ridiculous argument over the fact that Lola never made her bed.
“What's the point if I'm just going to mess it up again tonight when I go to sleep? It's a waste of time.”
“But it makes the room look nicer.”
Wylie had taken to making both of their beds most mornings, because she couldn't live with the mess. Lola would usually fall asleep writing in her journal and the next day, Wylie would unearth it from the blankets and place it back under the mattress. She scanned the bed and spotted the leather binding peeking out from under the pillowcase. Wylie had never been tempted to snoop through it before. But as she grabbed the journal from under the pillow and held it in her hands, she contemplated whether or not to read it. Cracking it open would be a huge breach of privacy, but it seemed forgivable under the current circumstances.
A small laugh escaped her throat as she skimmed through
the notes Lola had taken during their late-night conversations. Sometimes when she could barely stay awake, she told Lola fake stories about the mainland to amuse herself. Thanks to Wylie, Lola now thought Beyoncé was the president of the United States and had won the election after a televised dance-off with her opponent, Taylor Swift. There were a few recipe ideas scribbled among the pages and a love note to Maz she'd never had a chance to give him. Wylie tore it out and stuck it in her pocket. Between the pages of notes and recipes were full-length diary entries. One of the earliest entries had Wylie's name in it:
I didn't think it was true, but I guess you can't put anything past Phinn these days. He brought new recruits. We all agreed we shouldn't bring any new people to the island until we found everyone who'd gone missing. Not like he's ever listened to what anyone's told him before. It's three siblings. The oldest is a girl named Wylie and it's so obvious he's interested in her. I can't figure it out, but something about the three of them feels different. Like he
really
wants to impress them and he's nervous they might not want to stay on the island. Phinn told me if they stick around, Wylie will be my roommate. Charlotte's only been gone for a few months. What's it going to look like when she comes back to Minor Island and all
of her stuff is gone and a new girl is living with me? I am the worst friend in the entire world.
Wylie quickly placed a chair under the doorknob. They didn't have any locks on their door and she didn't want to run the risk of Phinn walking in on her while she read the remaining entries. Some of them were just passages about how much Lola loved Maz and what their life together might look like if they ever lived on the mainland. Wylie already felt conflicted about looking through the journal, so she just scanned the entries for one word: “Phinn.”
I never thought prom night would end with us hiding in the panic room. Wylie and I had slaved away in the kitchen for hours. Everything was going great. I didn't even really care when Phinn and Wylie were crowned king and queen instead of Maz and me. But then an explosion went off and the girls all had to hide. No one was hurt and no one went missing, but we know it was a warning from Hopper. He's going to come back again and we might not be so lucky the next time. Everyone trusts Phinn will keep us safe, but no one ever talks about what he did to the lost kids. He's to blame for what happened to them. No one will say it, but it's the truth.
He was awful to them. Charlotte didn't deserve to be treated that way. Neither did the others. Of course, I would never say anything like that out loud. He'd probably lock me up on the Forbidden Side and throw away the key.
The last entry was written just a week before Lola went missing:
I'm such an idiot. Wylie wanted to seal up the floorboards to the panic room and I said I would help her. Ugh. I know better. I just got swept up in the whole idea and I thought about how much Charlotte would have loved it, too. I should have talked her out of it and instead I helped her rally all the girls. Who knows? Maybe I secretly want to be exiled. Anyway, Phinn walked in on us hammering at the basement door and he completely lost it. He even yelled at Wylie, so I told him it was all my idea. I'm not going to lose another friend because of him. Maz was so mad at me afterward. I think he was just afraid for me. And I don't blame him. I guess I'm afraid for me too. Maybe if I cook Phinn some chipney-onion cakes for dinner, he'll forgive me. Yeah, right. He doesn't forgive anyone.
Wylie thought back to when Lola made her swear not to tell Phinn of their late-night discussions about the mainland. Even then, Lola sounded like she was afraid of Phinn, and now the journal confirmed it. She tore out a few blank pages and slipped the diary under the mattress. She placed a pen in her back pocket, moved the chair from under the knob, and walked out the door with purpose. Once she'd arrived at her destination, she pounded on the bungalow door with both fists.
“Tinka!” she called. “Let me in!”
“Go away!” Tinka shouted back.
“Not until you open the door!” Wylie was prepared to knock and yell until her knuckles bled and her voice gave out.
“I haven't let anyone in here for almost a week. Why would I make an exception for you, of all people?”
“Because it's important.”
“Not to me.”
Wylie used her pen and scribbled
I think Phinn is hiding something
on a piece of paper. She slipped it under Tinka's door and finally heard some movement. The door opened a crack and Tinka pressed her face against the small opening. She crumpled the paper into a ball, placed it inside her mouth, and spit it out at Wylie.
“This is me not giving a shit,” she replied.
Just as she moved to close the door, Wylie placed her foot in the frame and pushed it all the way open. It slammed behind her as she barged into the room.
“Get out!” Tinka shrieked.
The stale air hit Wylie's nostrils and she nearly gagged. If this was payback for the time Wylie had breathed into Tinka's face, it was quite the revenge. The bedroom was messier than normal, with art supplies and plates of food strewn around the floor. From the look of Tinka's greasy hair, Wylie could tell it had been days since she'd showered.
“What?” Tinka asked nonchalantly.
“It's just a little stuffy in here, that's all.”
“You don't say. I'll crack open a window.”
Tinka pulled the curtains aside and a cool breeze helped fumigate the room as she opened the window.
“You haven't left your room in seven days?” Wylie asked.
“I've left to use the toilet. Micah's been bringing me food. I can tell Lola's still missing from the lackluster meals.”
It was typical of Tinka to get in a dig, but Wylie wouldn't take the bait.
“What are you hiding from?”
“Oh, I don't know. A psychopath who's been kidnapping people from the island. I'd say that's a pretty solid reason to stay inside and sleep with a knife under my pillow. It doesn't sound like I've missed much, aside from a few vigils and some sappy Youth Brigade songs. Those guys are really losing their touch. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back to lying in bed and being dead to the world.”
“Do you really think I would be here unless it was absolutely necessary?”
“Right, it's absolutely necessary because Phinn is hiding something. Phinn is
always
hiding something. It's who he is. I've learned not to question it.”
“Lola was afraid of him, did you know that?”
Tinka shrugged. “No, but what does that matter?”
“I don't know. Maybe Hopper didn't have anything to do with her disappearance.”
“I know she was your friend, but you're living in a fantasy world. That's precisely what happened.”
“Do you know why Phinn brought me and my brothers here?”
Tinka lit a stick of incense and held it between two fingers like a cigarette. “I'm bored with this conversation. If you're having doubts about your boyfriend, his ex isn't exactly the person you should be talking to.”
“His
ex
?” Wylie said, letting out a snort. “Phinn says you're like a little sister to him. He said it's been years since anything happened between you guys.”
“He said that?” Tinka replied, raising an eyebrow. “Wow. So then, he didn't tell you that I spent the night with him two days before he brought you to the island?”
“You're making that up,” Wylie blurted defensively.
“I wish I was.”
Tinka had every reason in the world to lie. And after a week of being cooped up in her room, she was probably in desperate need of a little entertainment. But there was no way Wylie would let herself get derailed by jealousy.
“Whatever happened between you and Phinn before I came here is your business,” Wylie replied stoically. “The only thing I care about right now is whether Phinn's hiding something about the lost kids. Did he do something to Charlotte before she disappeared?”
“I'm not at liberty to speak about that.”
“I'll take that as a yes. Lola wrote in her journal that it was his fault they all went missing.”
“You read Lola's diary? That's an elder move.”
“I was looking for clues.”
“Aww, cute. You're like a detective now.”
“I need to know what else he's hiding.”
“Why? Why do you care?”
“Because . . .” Wylie wasn't sure how to answer the question.
“I'm waiting.”
Wylie's silence whipped Tinka into action. She slammed the window shut and closed the curtains. She put out the stick of incense and crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over her. After letting out a dramatic yawn, she closed her eyes and pretended to snore.
“Because I want to know who I'm in love with,” Wylie finally admitted. Tinka opened her eyes.
“No, you don't. Trust me. I don't know why Phinn brought you and your brothers here, but ignorance is bliss, Wylie. If I were you, I'd leave here right now and go back to your bungalow and forget about what you read in Lola's little diary. She was always too introspective for my taste anyway.”
Wylie glanced around the bedroom. Some of the walls were now covered in Micah's artwork. He'd drawn a gorgeous portrait of Tinka wading in the lagoon, but his interpretation of her was much more delicate than the tough and abrasive girl Wylie had come to know. And then Wylie saw it again: the photograph of Tinka and Phinn from prom night. Tinka had taken it from the dining room and placed
it right next to her bed. Except now, she spotted something she hadn't noticed the first time she looked at the picture. Tinka's chest was adorned with a small antique hand mirror hanging from a silver chain. The same necklace Wylie was wearing right now.