1970

Chapter four: Fault Lines

The cheerleaders' locker room echoed with Hailey's voice, bouncing off metal doors and tiled walls. "Mom, that's not fair! I already told them I'd—" She pulled the phone away from her ear, wincing at the sharp response. Her other hand curled around the strap of her gym bag until her knuckles went white.

"No, I didn't forget about the Hendersons," she said, her voice taking on that particular strain it always did during these conversations. "But I can't babysit every single—" Another interruption. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, harsh against her gathering tears. "Mom, please, I haven't seen my friends all week because of—"

The threat of grounding came through clear enough that even the remaining cheerleaders, pretending not to listen as they packed up their gear, could hear it. Hailey's face flushed red.

"Fine," she snapped, the word catching in her throat. "Whatever. Ground me. See if I care."

The locker slammed with enough force to make the entire row rattle, the sound of metal on metal drowning out whatever her mother was saying. Hailey shoved the receiver back onto its cradle and stormed out, purple-streaked hair flying behind her like a battle flag.

She made it three steps before colliding with something solid and warm.

"Whoa there, lightning bug," Loch's voice came from somewhere above her head. Strong hands steadied Hailey's shoulders, keeping her from bouncing backward. "Where's the fire?"

Hailey looked up into Loch's concerned face, suddenly aware of the tear tracks on her cheeks. She swiped at them quickly, forcing a smile that felt like broken glass. "Just my mom being..." She gestured vaguely, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"Being your mom?" Loch supplied, voice softening with sympathy. She was still in her basketball practice clothes, a light sheen of sweat making her brown skin glow under the hallway lights. "Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, Hailey almost did. The words pressed against her teeth: how tired she was of being the perfect daughter, how sometimes she felt like she was disappearing into all the things her mother wanted her to be, how she just wanted one summer to be herself—whoever that was.

But Loch wouldn't understand. Loch, who told her parents exactly what she thought and wore what she wanted and never seemed afraid of anything. "It's nothing," Hailey said instead, adjusting her gym bag. "Just the usual stuff. Babysitting drama."

They fell into step together, heading toward the gymnasium. Loch spun her basketball on one finger, a nervous habit she'd picked up during their freshman year. "You know," she started carefully, "if you need help with the kids—"

"Husky!" Hailey called out, spotting his towering figure by the bleachers. She was already moving away, leaving Loch's unfinished offer hanging in the air between them. "Oh my god, you will not believe what just happened."

Loch watched as Hailey reached Husky, immediately launching into an animated retelling of the phone call. Her hands flew through the air, punctuating each word, while Husky listened with that particular blend of sympathy and amusement he seemed to reserve just for her. He'd probably heard this same story, or versions of it, a hundred times before.

Something twisted in Loch's chest, sharp and familiar. She looked away.

"Heads up!"

Loch caught the basketball purely on reflex, dropping the one she was holding, turning to find Valerie approaching with her usual quiet grace. Despite the summer heat creeping in through the gym's high windows, she wore long sleeves that covered most of her vitiligo-marked skin.

"Your shot's getting better," Loch commented, passing the ball back. The familiar rhythm of catch and throw helped settle the unease in her stomach.

"Lucky throw," Valerie demurred, but her small smile suggested otherwise. She glanced toward where Hailey was still talking to Husky, then back to Loch. Something knowing flickered in her dark eyes. "Want to practice? I could use some pointers on my layup."

They moved to the far hoop, passing the ball between them. Loch tried not to notice how Hailey's voice carried across the gym, the way it cracked slightly when she was upset. Tried not to think about all the things she wanted to say but couldn't find the words for.

"Quinn had an interesting theory in history today," Valerie said after a few passes, her voice casual in a way that suggested it wasn't casual at all. "About the earthquake in '60."

Loch groaned, but there was no real annoyance behind it. "Not you too. What's he on about now?"

"Apparently there were strange lights in the sky that night. Weird sounds, too." Valerie's pass came a bit harder this time. "Like what we heard on the roof."

The ball hit Loch's hands with a sting. "Val, come on. You can't seriously—"

"I'm not saying I believe it," Valerie interrupted gently. "I'm just saying... maybe there are things we don't understand yet. About this town. About the river."

Across the gym, Hailey's laugh rang out—lighter now, whatever hurt her mother's words had caused temporarily soothed by Husky's particular brand of comfort. Loch's next shot went wide, bouncing off the backboard.

"There's a lot of things I don't understand," she muttered, mostly to herself.

Valerie retrieved the ball, but didn't immediately pass it back. "You could talk to her, you know. Really talk to her."

"About what?" Loch challenged, but they both knew she understood.

"About anything," Valerie said simply. "She might surprise you."

Before Loch could respond, the gym doors banged open. Quinn burst in, face flushed with excitement, a stack of papers clutched to his chest. "You're never going to believe what I found in the library archives!"

"If it's about your mutant beaver theory, I swear to god—" Loch started, grateful for the interruption.

But Quinn was already charging toward them, scattering paper across the nearest bleacher. "Look at these old newspaper clippings. The earthquake wasn't just here—it affected places all over Alaska. And everywhere it hit, people reported the same things. Lights in the sky, strange sounds, and—" He paused dramatically, holding up one yellowed article, "—unexplained disappearances near bodies of water."

"Quinn," Loch began, but Hailey and Husky were already joining them, drawn by the commotion.

"What disappeared?" Hailey asked, leaning over Quinn's shoulder to see the article. Her earlier distress seemed forgotten in the face of new mystery.

"Mostly livestock at first," Quinn said, rifling through his papers. "But then pets started going missing, and then—"

The final bell rang, cutting through his words. Something shifted in the quality of light coming through the high windows, like a cloud passing over the sun. In the sudden dimness, Loch could have sworn she saw something move in the shadows beneath the bleachers—something that didn't match any of their reflections.

But that was impossible. Just like earthquake lights and river monsters and all the other stories that couldn't possibly be true.

Right?

"We should go," she said abruptly, gathering her things. "It's getting late."

As they filed out of the gym, Hailey fell into step beside her instead of Husky. "Want to come over later?" she asked quietly. "Mom's not actually going to ground me, and I could use the company."

Loch looked down at her—at the hopeful tilt of her smile, the way her nose ring caught the light, the lingering vulnerability in her eyes—and felt that familiar twist in her chest again.

"Yeah," she heard herself say. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Behind them, Quinn was still talking about earthquakes and anomalies, his voice mixing with the sound of their footsteps on the polished floor. Outside, the afternoon sun painted long shadows across the parking lot, and somewhere in the distance, the Kinkik River flowed on, carrying its secrets beneath the surface.

Some mysteries, Loch thought, watching Hailey's profile in the slanting light, were harder to solve than others.