At sev­en-thir­ty, I rose to the entic­ing aro­ma of a sump­tu­ous break­fast spread laid out silent­ly in our cot­tage’s kitchen. On the island sat muffins, bagels, pas­tries, oat­meal, yogurt, and a plen­ti­ful cof­fee urn, which I grate­ful­ly poured myself a cup of before step­ping out onto the porch. My sis­ter, Tam­my, sat bun­dled in a robe, enjoy­ing the serene sun­rise over the lake while sip­ping hot tea. Our morn­ing ban­ter was light, with Tam­my excit­ed­ly recount­ing her delight­ful con­ver­sa­tion with Errol Gard­ner, a wealthy acquain­tance she found sur­pris­ing­ly down-to-earth. Express­ing her admi­ra­tion for him, she not­ed how he had offered to teach her fos­ter daugh­ter Abi­gail how to water-ski, show­cas­ing his gen­eros­i­ty amidst the high-pro­file par­ty atmos­phere.

As we chat­ted over break­fast, I relayed Errol’s odd offer to find me a “com­pan­ion,” which Tam­my play­ful­ly respond­ed to, sug­gest­ing he must know some pleas­ant wid­ows. I dis­missed the idea, insist­ing I sim­ply want­ed qual­i­ty time with my daugh­ter, Mag­gie, and her fam­i­ly. As we enjoyed our meal, Abi­gail, in pecu­liar paja­mas, shuf­fled out­doors, reveal­ing her itch­i­ness from what turned out to be a lice infes­ta­tion. Tammy’s uncon­ven­tion­al rem­e­dy involv­ing may­on­naise soon stank up our break­fast nook, leav­ing me appalled as she slathered it into Abigail’s hair.

Real­iz­ing I was late for a canoe ride with Mag­gie, I declined Abigail’s eager request to join, pri­or­i­tiz­ing my time with her moth­er instead. After a brief dis­cus­sion, I reas­sured both Tam­my and Abi­gail I would take her out lat­er that day.

When I final­ly met Mag­gie, she sur­prised me with cof­fee before we launched our canoe. Pad­dling, she guid­ed the boat toward Cor­morant Point, a scenic spot where oth­er campers would meet for lunch. Dur­ing our out­ing, I couldn’t help but wor­ry about Maggie’s fiancée, Aidan, and their dynam­ics, espe­cial­ly giv­en my past with the fam­i­ly. Though Abi­gail had been left behind due to her lice prob­lem, Mag­gie assured me of her moth­er Catherine’s care back at the lodge.

Mag­gie insist­ed that adven­ture await­ed us, brush­ing off my wor­ries regard­ing Aidan. Yet, my con­cerns didn’t fade eas­i­ly, espe­cial­ly against the back­drop of a group of guests await­ing us upon our return, sens­ing some­thing unusu­al stir­ring at Osprey Lodge. As we neared the shore, guards wad­ed toward us, urg­ing us to dock, and a star­tling dis­cov­ery awaited—a fig­ure float­ing in the water, an omi­nous sight break­ing the tran­quil atmos­phere of our morn­ing .