Chapter 31: Madeline
Northhaven looks almost unrecognizable under a clear sky. The wharf doesn’t seem so gray, the cracked sidewalks look quaint instead of tired, and for once the gulls don’t sound like they’re plotting my murder.
Charlie leads the way down Main Street, striding ahead like she’s personally responsible for wringing the sun out of the clouds. “Bakery first,” she says, sunglasses flashing. “If I don’t get my hands on a cinnamon roll before noon, I’m going to turn on all of you.”
Liam grins, hurrying to keep up. “You say that like you’re not scary before noon.”
“Scarier after,” she fires back.
I laugh before I can stop myself.
The bakery is crowded, warm air spilling out the door. Inside, Charlie elbows her way up front like a general storming a fort and comes back triumphantly clutching a box. Liam buys a turnover the size of his face. Finn doesn’t bother with the line — he just steals a bite from Liam’s pastry on the sidewalk.
“Unbelievable,” Liam mutters, crumbs down his shirt.
“You weren’t even going to finish it,” Finn says around a mouthful, perfectly calm.
“I was!”
“Sure,” Finn says, reaching for another bite.
I bite back a smile as Liam clutches his pastry like it’s a life preserver.
Next, Charlie drags us into the candy shop with the hand-painted signs. Liam stares at the jars of saltwater taffy like he’s found religion.
“Get the mix bag,” Charlie says, already sighing.
“But then you don’t get enough of the raspberry.”
“Then buy the raspberry.”
“Yeah, but what if I want other flavors too?”
“Then—” Charlie pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh my God, just buy two bags.”
Liam lights up like she’s given him permission to commit a crime. Minutes later, he walks out cradling enough candy to sink a small boat. Finn plucks one piece without asking.
“You’re unbelievable,” Liam says again.
Finn just shrugs. “You love me.”
Liam groans but doesn’t stop him.
The coffee shop is quieter, cool air humming with the smell of beans. Charlie orders an iced latte with hazelnut, Liam points nervously at something with whipped cream, and Finn leans on the counter while I stare at the chalkboard.
“Iced coffee,” I tell the barista. “Black.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Finn’s mouth twitches. “Figures.”
I glance at him. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He takes his drink when it comes, three shots of espresso drowning in sugar, and smirks into the straw. “Balance, that’s all.”
I frown at him, but he looks perfectly innocent. Charlie and Liam are too busy arguing over whether frappuccinos count as “real coffee” to notice.
By the time we spill back onto the street, the four of us are loaded with bags and cups, sunlight beating down like Northhaven is trying to prove it can actually be summer. Liam is chewing through his second piece of taffy, Charlie is humming loudly with her sunglasses pushed back on her head, Finn is walking next to me.
After a while I realize we’ve been walking for longer than “let’s just grab coffee and go.” My tote bag digs into my shoulder, and I finally blurt, “Okay, but where exactly are we going?”
Charlie pushes her sunglasses up her nose, breezy as ever. “Trust me. You’ll see.”
Finn glances back at me, smirking. “Most of the waterfront here’s either rocks or boats—or both if you’re lucky. And the gulls own it.”
“Own it,” Liam echoes, grimacing like he has battle scars to prove it. “Try eating a sandwich down there. They’ll swoop you like it’s a war zone.”
I blink. “So… there’s no actual beach?”
“There is,” Finn says, voice low, as if revealing a secret. “You just have to earn it.”
We leave behind the clustered shops and the smell of fryer oil, heading down a narrowing path that winds past tall grass. The houses thin out until it’s only us and the sound of the ocean. The ground crunches under our shoes, sand seeping into the cracks of the path.
When we crest the last rise, it hits me.
The cliff stretches wide, crowned with wind-bent grass that ripples in the breeze. Beyond it, the world opens into a sweep of golden sand slipping down into water so calm it looks like glass. Two white sails cut across the horizon, clean against the blue.
It’s beautiful.
Not just pretty—breathtaking. The kind of beauty that makes your lungs pause, like you don’t want to ruin the view by exhaling too loud.
Charlie spreads her arms like she’s presenting it to me personally. “Worth the walk, huh?”
I can only nod, the smile tugging at my mouth completely unguarded.
Finn shades his eyes, looking out at the boats. “Feels like we should’ve brought our own yacht.”
“Yeah,” Liam says, grinning. “Next time we’ll pack one in Charlie’s tote.”
Charlie smacks him lightly with hers. “Shut up and enjoy the miracle. Sun and sand on the same day? Northhaven doesn’t hand that out often.”
I stand there for a beat longer, letting the wind lift my hair, the salt settle on my lips.
We scramble down the sandy slope, shoes filling with grit, until we hit the stretch of beach.
Charlie immediately throws her tote down and pulls off her shorts, revealing her black bikini underneath. She drops her sunglasses into the sand, careless, then throws herself onto a towel like she’s claiming territory.
“Finally,” she groans. “The beach gods provide.”
I spread my own towel a little more cautiously, shorts still on, t-shirt sticking to my skin. My tote bag feels too plain next to hers, but I keep fussing with it anyway.
That’s when Liam frowns at the bulging canvas bag Charlie’s been carrying all morning. “Wait… how exactly are we cutting that watermelon?”
Charlie freezes mid-stretch. “Oh, shit.”
We all stare at the massive round fruit she drags dramatically into the sand. It looks like it could double as a medicine ball.
Finn scratches his chin, perfectly straight-faced. “We’re scientists. We’ll improvise.”
Liam brightens, already looking around. “There are rocks everywhere.”
Before I can protest, the two of them are lugging the poor thing down the beach like they’re about to perform a ritual sacrifice.
Charlie props herself up on her elbows. “If you idiots make it explode all over my towel, you’re sleeping outside tonight.”
“Relax,” Finn calls back, lifting the watermelon in both hands like it’s nothing. “We’re professionals.”
Liam crouches, points to a boulder. “There. Flat side.”
And with zero hesitation, Finn smashes the watermelon down. The crack echoes across the beach, and bright red flesh bursts open, dripping juice into the sand.
“Jesus,” I laugh, clapping a hand over my mouth. “That actually worked.”
“Of course it worked,” Finn says, tearing off a jagged chunk and handing it directly to me. “Ladies first.”
I take it, still laughing, juice running down my fingers. Charlie gets hers next, unbothered, biting straight into the mess like she hasn’t eaten in days.
“This is barbaric,” she says through a mouthful, grinning. “I love it.”
Liam claims a piece the size of his head, juice running down his chin, while Finn casually breaks another off for himself. He catches me watching and smirks, deliberately licking juice from his thumb before sinking his teeth into the melon.
I look away fast, pretending to focus on my own piece. The fruit is warm from the sun, sweet and messy, and for once, I don’t care that my hands are sticky.
For the first time in a week, I’m not thinking about Reid, or the data, or how badly I might have screwed this all up. Just sun, sand, laughter, and watermelon smashed against a rock.