“Stop the car.”

“Give me the keys,” he says. He shoves the keys into his pocket, then leans forward again, “I’m going to let go. You’re gonna stay with me. That ballet might have made you flexible, but you’re not fast enough to run.”

He savors the moment. Anticipation. Anxiety.

Releasing the wire, he lets it fall onto the back seat. The car door groans loudly. He steps out, breathing in the cool air. The waves crash against the rocks, filling the air with a chilling mist. He wipes thick blood from his cheek.

“Let’s go,” he says, his eyes locked on the lighthouse. He pulls open her door, his eyes briefly scanning her in the dim light. Her expression is familiar.

“Come on Cassie. Almost there,” He calls, looking back at her. Her homecoming dress billows in the wind.

“An old lighthouse?” Suspicion. Fear.

“I wanna show you something.”

She turns. Runs. He stumbles after.

She falls, slicing her shoulder on jagged rock. She’s wet. Trembling. Crying.

“Almost there,” he says, the door beckoning.