Victoria could hear the rush of the surf just beyond the woods. She could smell the ocean air. “Melissa!” the cop beside her yelled out. “Melissa Hastings!” But Melissa wasn’t answering them. And even though she’d tried to call him on her phone, Victoria hadn’t been able to reach Wade, either. The cops had lights with them. They shone them to the left and right as they tried to see in the darkness. Victoria followed, moving as quickly as she could. There were so many places to hide in those woods. The ground rose up, cresting, and the rough dirt slowly gave way to the cushion of sand—she could feel it beneath her shoes. The lights turned to the left— A stark white tree lay on its side, nearly covering the whole beach. She blinked at the sight. All of the bark, the leaves—everything was gone from the tree. It appeared almost otherworldly with its stark white body and— “Driftwood Beach,”
