Nina Bay has one rule nobody has ever written down. When the fog comes in early, you go inside. Olivia Sandoval notices what anybody else does, is never believed in time for it to matter, and wants one thing: the truth about the plane that took her parents and left almost no wreckage. On a Wednesday in September, the fog crosses the harbor five hours early. That night a boy rides out to photograph the fence on the old research point. They find his bike in the grass, his phone six feet past it, screen cracked and battery cold. They do not find him. Olivia starts a list. It runs back to 1931, and every date is the same kind of night. Then she finds chalk marks low on the fence, one still fresh. Somebody has been keeping this list far longer than she has. The company that owns the point has filed to bulldoze it flat. The permits clear in days. Nine people have vanished here in twelve years. What if not one of them is dead?
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