SIX YEARS AGO
Chapter 1
Stella
My pulse thudded in my neck like Morse code. A steady tap-tap loosely translating as come on. Shoving my hands under my thighs, I slid farther down the passenger seat and peered over the dashboard toward the darkened house at the end of the street.
For ten minutes I’d willed the motion-activated porch lights to stay off. Hoped the heavy living room drapes with the silver ring print I’d been mesmerized by as a kid would remain closed, allowing us to stay undetected.
Tap-tap.
Already 9:47 p.m. Where was he?
The cloudless Maine sky had long transitioned from bright blue to bubble gum pink before enveloping our corner of the East Coast in a blanket of rich black velvet. A cool breeze drifted through the open car window, providing a welcome break from the searing early August temperatures.
Rain was on its way for Portland and beyond tomorrow, which would be a welcome relief. For now, the sound of buzzing cicadas filled the Friday night air while this summer’s hottest anthem played on a radio somewhere in the distance.
The classic smell of freshly cut grass invaded my nostrils, conjuring memories of picnics in the park, running through sprinklers, and hands sticky from melting strawberry popsicles. Like those lazy days years ago, tonight would be perfect. All I needed was for my brother to show up.
“Do you think he changed his mind, Stella?” Jeff said, his voice a gentle rumble.
Glancing at my boyfriend, I took in his dark blond hair, straight nose, and the sculpted stubble accentuating a set of epic cheekbones. I let my gaze sweep across his toned biceps and chest. Underneath the faded-but-somehow-still-fitted Alanis Morissette T-shirt was a set of rock-hard abs I couldn’t wait to run my hands over again. Part of me almost wanted Max not to show up so we could go straight home.
I reached for Jeff’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “No, he’s too excited for the party. I bet he’s waiting for Mom and Dad to fall asleep in front of the TV.”
Jeff laughed. “Way to make them sound ancient.”
My parents were fifty-one. I was about to reply that compared to Jeff’s twenty-four years and my twenty-two, that was ancient, but the sight of Max emerging between a pair of fir trees stopped me. With a mischievous grin on his face, he speed-walked toward us, his hands tucked into the pockets of a Simpsons hoodie.
I smiled at my baby brother. Baby was slightly unfair considering his eighteenth birthday was under two weeks away, but I’d forever tease him about being four years younger. Max didn’t mind. He knew that from the moment I first saw him in the hospital, swaddled in a bunny-print blanket, his plump cheeks rosy red, I vowed I’d be the best big sister in the world.
Tonight, my solemn promise meant busting his grounded ass out of his minimum-security prison, aka our parents’ house, so he could join Jeff and me at what would be the coolest party of the weekend. Lighthouse Beach was a twenty-five-minute drive from Deering, the Portland neighborhood where Max and I had grown up, and now I couldn’t wait to get going.
Max slid into the back seat of Jeff’s old red pickup truck. I turned around, laughing at my brother’s beaming face and the perpetual impish twinkle in his green eyes, which looked so much like mine.
“We were about to leave,” I deadpanned. “Thought you’d chickened out.”
Max snorted. “As if.”
“Are we picking up Kenji?”
“He’s at his girlfriend’s so he’ll meet us at the beach,” Max said, before jokingly adding, “He’d better, considering he’s taking off next week. Some best friend he is, leaving me behind.”
“Hey,” I shot back with mock indignation. “I thought I was your best friend.”
“Are you two sure about this aiding and abetting?” Jeff cut in before Max could throw a good-natured sibling zinger my way. “Your mom will go ballistic if she finds out.”
Max shrugged. “I don’t care. She’s way overprotective.”
“You know her reasons,” Jeff said.
We all did. Mom’s older brother died when she was nine and he was seventeen. It was terrible how some asshole truck driver had run over our uncle, killing him instantly. Still, Max’s rebellion tonight was fueled by the fact Mom had banned him from going to California with Kenji, saying it was too far away, and Max was too young. They’d had a massive argument about it, which led to my brother being grounded for the weekend, hence tonight’s great escape.
“I told them I was heading to bed,” Max said. “They never check, but I stacked my pillows under the duvet just in case. Nobody will notice.”
“If they do, I’ll take the full blame.” I patted Jeff’s hand. “Max, we’ll drive you home. No after-parties with Kenji, got it? What Mom and Dad don’t know can’t hurt them.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Max gave me a salute. “Anyway, I’ll need some sleep. I’m volunteering at the clinic tomorrow. Woolly had a mass removed and I want to be there for him.”
“Woolly?” Jeff said. “Dog or sheep?”
My brother grinned. “Giant Angora rabbit. He’s awesome.”
“You’re such a softie,” I said before letting out a whoop. “All right, let’s go. Lighthouse Beach, here we come.”
*
When I woke up a while later, I had no idea where I was until a seagull squawked in the cloud-filled sky. As I opened my eyes, the world’s axis tilted, everything spinning from the Buds I’d drunk and the puffs I’d taken from a joint going around. Drugs—illicit and otherwise—had never been my thing, but the majority of the thirty people at the beach had partaken as we’d danced to EDM, our collective energy a happy high.
I sighed and stretched, reaching for Jeff, but the space next to me on the oversized fluffy beach towel was empty. It took my jumbled brain a moment to remember the argument we’d had, making me wrinkle my nose.
“We should start thinking about getting Max home,” Jeff had said earlier while we’d stood by the bonfire. “It’s past midnight.”
“We can stay a bit longer,” I said. “I’m having too much fun.”
“Stella—”
“Max,” I’d called over to my brother, who sat on a blanket with Kenji and his girlfriend, and another woman I didn’t recognize, all of them deep in conversation. When he’d looked up, I’d tapped an imaginary watch on my wrist. “Jeff thinks we should get going.”
Max laughed. “Getting a bit late for you, old man?”
“Craving cocoa and pajamas?” Kenji added with a smirk, making the girls laugh, too.
“Jeff’s worried he’ll turn into a pumpkin,” I said.
My brother guffawed. “It’s okay, Jeff, we’ll roll you home. I’m good staying here a few more hours.”
I gave him a thumbs-up before looking at Jeff, my grin falling when I clocked his stony expression. “You okay?”
“Thanks a lot for making me sound like an old fart,” he muttered.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “We were joking.”
“All I’m doing is trying to stop Max from getting into a bigger fight with your mom.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t think—”
“No,” he said. “Obviously not.”
His words and tone were cutting, both making me bristle. I understood Jeff’s reticence about bringing Max to the party. For one, he’d never been big on breaking rules. He also had a great relationship with my parents, often better than I did. Understandably, he didn’t want to jeopardize that, especially considering his folks had become ill and passed away in the two years since we’d met. They’d been close, and he missed them.
Still, my annoyance bubbled over.
“There’s no need to talk to me like that,” I snapped.
“Wouldn’t have to if you didn’t make me look like an ass.”
“I said I was sorry,” I replied, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Look, let’s forget about it and go for a walk.”
Jeff shook me off. “Think I’ll pass. I’m fine hanging out here.”
“Seriously?” When he didn’t answer, I added, “Whatever. See you later.”
I’d grabbed a towel and another beer, gone for a short walk before plonking myself in the sand about a hundred yards from the bonfire. Within seconds, I’d fallen asleep.
I sat up now, wishing our argument had never happened. Instead of being mad at each other, we could’ve made out behind the dunes. Curled up together afterward and fallen asleep to whispers of I love you and I love you more.
As I shook the remnants of the spat away, I vowed to smooth things over with Jeff. Longing for my earlier sense of contentment to spread through me, I stood and collected the towel while reminding myself of my typically blissful existence.
I lived with my great boyfriend who worked as an EMT. My part-time job at a café came with a decent boss and flexible hours. Soon I’d enter my final year at the University of Maine, where I was studying for a bachelor of arts in communication. My ultimate dream of fund-raising for nonprofit organizations, and hopefully running one at the pinnacle of my career, was inching closer. The disagreement with Jeff tonight was a tiny blip. In no time it would be entirely forgotten.
I checked my phone. Almost 3:00 a.m. Definitely time to get Max home, just in case one of our parents checked his room after all. Dad might’ve been okay with my brother going to the beach party tonight, but he was loyal to Mom. If he knew Max had defied her orders, she’d find out, and Max would be grounded forever.
I quickened my pace. The once gigantic bonfire had burned itself into a pit of glowing embers, and someone had changed the music to chill-out or lounge—I never knew the difference. Most people had left the beach. A few sat in a group chatting and relaxing around the fire, and I scanned the area.
“Hey,” I called out to Vivien, one of my friends from high school, who was taking out a drink from a dented royal blue cooler. “Have you seen Jeff and Max?”
Vivien unscrewed the cap from her bottle of water and said, “Uh-uh. Not for ages.”
A guy I didn’t recognize, who was sprawled out on a fuchsia blanket, blinked slowly, his words slurred as he mumbled, “Max said he wanted to swim.”
“Alone?” When he shrugged, a jolt of fear zapped through me, its pointy tip piercing my stomach. I shoved it away. Max knew better than to go for a solo dip, especially at night. The summer had been boiling so far, with the second week of August one of the hottest on record, but the Atlantic was frigid year-round.
Except with a few too many drinks in him…
I spun around, jogged to the water, hoping to see my brother curled up on the sand. Nothing. As I continued my search, I shouted his name while telling myself I shouldn’t worry. I needed to take a beat and calm down.
Turning again and looking to my left, I spotted Kenji sitting twenty yards away, one arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “Hey, Kenji. Where’s Max?”
“Don’t know,” he replied. “Haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Is he with your friend?” I asked his girlfriend.
“Elle left ages ago,” she replied. “Max didn’t go with her.”
Leaving them there, I had another look around before heading to the path that led to the parking lot. A few yards farther, I broke into a jog. When I got closer to the thick cluster of trees separating sand from pavement, Jeff appeared, walking toward me from the opposite direction, one hand pressed to his stomach.
His eyes widened when he saw me, and he grimaced. “I, uh, I think I ate too many hot dogs, and… Are you okay?”
“Is Max with you?”
Jeff’s face seemed to redden, but another cloud covered the moon, reducing the light to almost nothing. “No, I haven’t really seen him since you and I fought earlier. By the way, I’m sorry. I—”
“Never mind that now. I can’t find Max. He’s not on the beach. I don’t know where he is.”
“Probably asleep, like you were. You looked so cute. I didn’t want to disturb—”
“He may have gone swimming.”
Jeff frowned. “No way. Have you messaged him?”
“He left his cell at home because Mom’s got him on Find My iPhone, remember? We need to find him.”
“On it,” Jeff said. “He can’t be far. Let’s split up. We’ll cover more ground.”
Half an hour later, as the first raindrops splattered the windshield, Jeff and I drove to Deering with Kenji close behind. My pulse no longer resembled Morse code. Instead, it was a thousand beating drums.
Max wasn’t at the beach. He hadn’t brought a bag or his wallet—he’d told me he’d left them on the hallway sideboard in another ploy to make Mom and Dad believe he was home—but we hadn’t found his clothes or shoes. Surely that meant he didn’t venture into the ocean, but nobody still at the beach remembered him leaving. No after-parties had been arranged. The people who’d left, and whom we’d managed to contact, hadn’t driven Max anywhere.
“Can you go faster, please?” I whispered. “He promised he wouldn’t leave without us.”
Jeff squeezed my thigh. “I bet he hitched a ride. Try his phone again.”
After listening to Max’s chirpy voicemail, I left another message. When we arrived at my parents’ house, I leaped from the car and raced up the driveway, speeding around the side of the house.
Max’s bedroom was on the second floor. We’d long known how to clamber from his window to the garage roof and across to the sturdy branches of the gnarled oak tree, from where we’d lower ourselves to the ground. As I made the trek in reverse, I decided I’d give my brother such a hard time for bailing on Jeff and me, he’d think Mom was Strawberry Shortcake.
I pushed the slightly ajar window open, exhaling when I saw Max under the covers. After silently sliding into his room and tiptoeing across the carpet, I reached for my brother’s shoulder, ready to shake all the living daylights out of him.
As soon as I touched Max, something felt off. His body was too soft, too squishy. Way shorter than his six-foot frame, even if his legs were bent. Then I remembered him saying he’d arranged his pillows before he’d sneaked out.
I stumbled backward and landed on my butt with a loud thud. After jumping up and taking two strides, I flicked on the overhead light, my head on a swivel as I searched the room for any indication my brother had come home.
My shoulders dropped when the door opened behind me. I turned, expecting to see Max with mussed hair, crumpled sand-covered clothes, and another cheeky grin. Except it was Mom, wearing pajamas and a bleary-eyed expression as she rubbed a hand over her face.
“Stella, what are you doing here this early?” she said, confusion taking over, her forehead crinkling when her gaze dropped to the empty bed. “Where’s Max?”
I wanted to reassure her. Say everything was fine, and there was nothing to worry about, but all I could manage was a strangled whisper, my words cutting me to my core.
“I…I don’t know. Mom, I can’t find him.”
© Hannah Mary McKinnon, 2025
