The lake is too still.

Fog drifts low over the water near the cabin, swallowing the dock in gray silence. Janet sits at the edge of the pier, staring into the dark surface. She told Simon she wanted to be alone.

She didn’t expect you to follow.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” she says without turning.

You step beside her anyway. “You don’t actually want to be alone.”

She almost snaps back — but she doesn’t.

Because you’re looking at her. Not Maddie.

Her.

“You think you understand me,” Janet says quietly.

“I think you’re tired,” you reply. “And I think running isn’t fixing it.”

Before she can respond, a beam of light cuts through the fog.

“Girls,” Mr. Anderson’s voice calls.

But you don’t see Mr. Anderson.

You see Mr. Martin.

Standing in borrowed skin.

Janet stiffens.

He gestures toward a small rowboat. “We should talk. Away from the others.”

You know better.

But you also know something else — if you don’t go, he’ll escalate.

The boat rocks gently as the three of you drift toward the center of the pond. Fog swallows the shore. No Simon. No Nicole. No Xavier. No Claire. No Diego.

Just water.

Mr. Martin rows slowly, calm. Too calm.

“You’ve both complicated things,” he says, voice measured. “Split River thrives on balance. Interference creates… instability.”

“You mean exposure,” you say.

His eyes flick to you.

Sharp.

“You know far too much for someone who does not belong here.”

Janet’s jaw tightens. “Leave her out of this.”

Mr. Martin almost smiles. “She was never outside of it.”

The boat stops.

The water is black beneath you.

“You were not meant to touch what is dead,” he says to you. “You were not meant to see.”

You swallow. “I didn’t ask to.”

“No,” he agrees softly. “But you threaten everything.”

There’s a flash of metal.

You don’t even see where the knife comes from — just the sudden pressure, the shock of it, the breath leaving your lungs.

Janet’s eyes widen.

“Stop—”

And then the world tilts.

Mr. Martin shoves you overboard.

The water is ice.

You can’t swim.

Darkness swallows you instantly.

Above the surface, Janet doesn’t hesitate.

The oar cracks against Mr. Martin’s head with a force that surprises even her. His borrowed body slumps sideways in the boat.

She dives.

The water burns cold. Heavy. Silent.

You’re sinking.

Janet sees you below — hair fanned out, limbs disoriented, panic turning into stillness.

“No,” she breathes into the water.

And for the first time, she isn’t thinking about control.

She isn’t thinking about escape.

She isn’t thinking about herself.

She reaches you.

And you reach back.

Because you can touch her.

Your fingers lock around her wrist — solid. Real.

Janet pulls.

Hard.

It’s not graceful. It’s desperate.

They break the surface together.

Onshore, Simon is already running down the dock, yelling your name. Nicole right behind him. Xavier and Claire close after. Diego shouting for help.

Janet drags you toward the pier, breath ragged, hands shaking in a way she hasn’t allowed in years.

Simon helps haul you up.

“You’re okay,” he says — but he’s not sure.

Janet climbs out last.

Soaked. Furious. Terrified.

She looks back at the boat.

Mr. Martin is gone.

Whether he slipped beneath the water or fled the body — no one can tell.

Janet turns to you.

And something in her expression has changed.

You were a complication before.

Now you’re something else.

Someone she chose to save.