Before We Forgot

Rain tapped against the windshield of Kate’s SUV idling in the parking lot beside the ferry terminal. Beyond them tied to the dock, was a ferry—rust-streaked and name barely legible. It was the only way on or off Aimhreit Island.

Sloane stood outside the car staring at the ferry. “Is this thing even going to make it over to the island?” she asked.

“It’s vintage,” Kate replied, shoving another duffel into the trunk.

“Vintage?” Kaia muttered, stepping out of the passenger seat. “Baby that's an antique.”

They all fell into laughter. Even though it had been years since they’d all gotten together, the minute they were all reunited it was like no time had passed at all. Just five best friends.

Sloane, the fiercely logical one. Kate, who planned this trip planner due to her reminiscent nature. Kaia, dry humor hiding a big heart she’d never admitted to. Tessa, being perspective as usual leaned against the hood. And Brynn— a bundle of energy but late, as always—who came jogging across the lot with a suitcase in each hand.

“You started the reunion without me?” she called.

“ You’re twenty minutes late,” Kate said.

“That’s punctual for me.”

Brynn reached them, breathless and grinning. Kate couldn’t help but join in, seeing them all together. Their edges worn from jobs, marriages, divorces, children, cities—but somehow pulled back into the shape they used to make together.

Kate pulled out the printed directions to the cabin. Once they crossed over by ferry, they would no longer have signal. “The cabin awaits.”

Tessa finally looked over. “You’re sure the reviews were good for the place? Seems like a lot of effort just to stay in a janky rental.”

“Yeah. Here,” she passed over a folder, “read some, I printed them out with directions on how to get in. I’ve stared at this for the past week, I have it all memorized.”

Brynn quickly grabbed it and promptly started reading each one in various accents.

★★★★☆ Remarkable stay. Bring a journal— to keep track of lists, plans, names. The island has a way of making days blur together.

★★★★☆ Unusual remote retreat. But don’t use the rowboat tied behind the cabin; the owner says it drifts loose. Otherwise perfect place to disappear for a weekend.

★★★☆☆ Nice cabin and worth the ferry ride. Very peaceful, loved being off-grid. Perfect stay for six of us on the first night.

Then the ferry horn bellowed. Long and low.

All five quickly turned. “Guess that’s us,” Kate said.

As they loaded bags and climbed aboard, she glanced back toward the mainland – and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d forgotten something important.

…

As the ferry pushed through the fog, the island rose out of the water. The shore was so thick with trees, black pines crowding steep cliffs, their tops bending in the wind like they were whispering to one another. The road, if you could call it that, overgrown as it was, quickly vanished into the forest. It seemed like before their tires were fully off the dock, the ferry was already pulling away. The drive up to the cabin full of twists and turns yet only seemed to take less than ten minutes.

With night already starting to fall around them, Kate took the porch steps two at a time, the damp boards groaning under her shoes. She stopped at the front door, staring at the electronic keypad.

“What’s wrong,” someone asked.

“I can’t remember the passcode.”

“1, 0, 3, 2.” Tessa read off from the directions.

They pushed through the door and were greeted by smells of old leather, pine and a slight must. Kate, taking back the folder, started reading out the room assignments, “Kaia and Sloane, you’re the two rooms on the third floor, Tessa and Britany you’ll be on the second story. And we’ll be taking the master bedroom down here.”

“Who is we?” Brynn asked.

Shaking her head, “Sorry, I have no idea why I said that.”

They all scattered. Footsteps thundered overhead. Laughter echoed through the old beams as they ran around claiming bedrooms like kids at summer camp.

Only Tessa lingered. She stayed by the entry table where a leather guestbook sat open beneath a dusty lantern. The last entry was written in hurried handwriting,

Really lovely stay.

Unique cabin + island.

Nothing out of place.

Closing the book, she went and put her things in the room next to Brynn.

…

Tessa and Brynn paired off in the kitchen, bickering over pasta sauce and whether the cast-iron skillet was decorative or usable.

Some of the others went outside with a lantern to gather firewood from the stacked cords near the shed. The woods pressed close beyond the clearing.

Inside, Kate set the long farmhouse table with six plates, six forks, six glasses. When everyone came in with wood under their arms, Tessa paused. “…Why is there an extra place setting?”

Kate looked at the table, blinked. “Oh.” She laughed, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t even know. I’m exhausted.” She put away the extra place setting, “Island brain already.”

Dinner turned into wine around the fireplace and out came the memories. Old fights retold with comedic flair, childhood memories half-remembered and exaggerated. Sloane found cards. Tessa put on music from a brought speaker. Conversation rose and tangled through the cabin late into the night finally quieting after midnight.

Sloane woke thirsty. Still half-asleep, she padded downstairs. In the kitchen she reached for a glass— and noticed the front door. Slightly ajar. She moved to step out onto the porch. Then she saw Kate barefoot in the yard. Standing motionless in the grass. Frowning, she broke the silence of night. “Kate?”

Kate turned too slowly, as if surfacing from somewhere far away. Then smiled. Normal. “Couldn’t sleep,” she said.

Sloane stepped into the yard. “Why are you out here?”

Kate looked puzzled, as though she didn’t know. “Do you ever feel like you’re losing parts of yourself? Is that aging? Or do I especially feel different being back with the people who initially built me up, into the first version of myself?”

Sloane followed her gaze up to Tessa’s windows. “Honestly? I think we’ve all changed more than we’d like to admit, but it's not a bad thing to not be the same person you were yesterday.”

Kate nodded. Sloane nudged her shoulder. “Come inside.”

They shut the door, sliding the lock as they reentered the cabin. The empty glass forgotten on the counter.

…

The next day unfolded easy and ordinary in the way vacations sometimes do. They wandered trails behind the cabin and skipped stones on the lake. Tessa found an old rope swing hidden in the trees. Sloane insisted on swimming and immediately regretted it. Kaia took photos of everything. Brynn retold stories with Shakespearean gusto.

They lost track of time. Lunch became afternoon. Afternoon blurred into golden light. By evening they were sun-tired and smoky from another fire. Dinner was louder than the night before. More wine. More stories.

Sitting at the table, Kaia was looking at the photos taken throughout the day, “This one’s my favorite.” The one she had set up on a rock with a timer to get all of them in there. “I love looking through the bursts to see…ew Kate? What are you even doing?” she burst out laughing. In the progression, Kate on the edge of the lineup had been lifting her right arm up as if she was including another person.

She laughed along but couldn’t explain as she didn’t even remember taking the photo in the first place.

By one in the morning half of them had drifted upstairs, Kate and Tessa stayed at the kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey between them, talking in the late hours of the night.

…

Morning came late.

Kate woke first, needing to shower herself off. Emerging in damp hair and a borrowed sweatshirt while everyone gathered around for breakfast. All except Tessa.

Kate poured coffee, “Tessa must be sleeping off a hangover. We may have overachieved.”

Soon the previous night’s idea to take the boat out resurfaced and everyone seized on it. By midmorning Kate and Brynn headed down to the boathouse to get the little skiff ready while the others packed snacks, towels, and beer.

When the rest of the group came down the bluff path carrying bags and a cooler, Kate was at the dock toweling off from a last minute dip.She looked up. “Where did Brynn go?”

Someone said, “She went back to take a nap.”

Even with a third of the group sleeping off the plans, they climbed in the boat and five minutes later they were pushing off into the bay. Hours passed with such ease. They came back from the boat ride sun-drunk and hauled the skiff onto the dock with the lazy exhaustion of a day well spent. They laughed about getting turned around near the harbour. Argued over whether they’d actually seen snapping turtles. Passed around chips for dinner because no one wanted to cook.

As evening cooled, Kaia announced she was taking her book back down to the dock for a little quiet.

“Don’t get lured into the lake by ghosts,” Sloane called after her. Kaia lifted a hand without looking back.

At the cabin, Kate and Sloane carried split logs from the woodpile, and pulled six chairs around the firepit ring, drifting in and out of the house collecting blankets and drinks.

Down at the dock Kaia sat cross-legged with her book open in her lap, reading while the water knocked softly at the pilings. She lost track of pages in the hush. Eventually there wasn’t enough light to see so she closed the book and headed back up the path. She could already see the fire through the trees.

Kate was crouched at the pit, feeding another log into the flames. Three Adirondack chairs sat in a row facing the fire, backs toward Kaia. Occupied. Brynn’s dark halo of curls caught the firelight. Tessa’s long dark hair spilled over one chair back. Sloane’s recently dyed pink hair glowed copper at the edges.

Kate glanced up as Kaia approached. “How was the book?”

Kaia dropped into a teasing tone. “Thrilling. Nobody died.”

She stepped closer, moving around the row of chairs—and came into view of the others. Her smile quickly vanished. All three posed upright in their chairs. Brynn’s head lolled at an impossible angle, throat slit from ear to ear. Tessa sat rigid, her hollow, glistening sockets dried with black blood dripping down to her chin. Sloane’s pink hair was soaked dark at the roots, the back of her head completely crushed in.

The book slipped from Kaia’s hand. Kate was still kneeling by the fire. Still calmly feeding wood to the flames. She looked over her shoulder and smiled, a little too widely. Getting up from the fire to sit in the chair. “You startled me,” she said.

Kaia stumbled backward. “No—” Her voice broke. “Kate…”

Kate turned fully toward her. Confused. Then she looked around at the bodies and in gasping breaths asked, “What happened?” But with a heavy blink her face turned back at the remaining empty chair. “Sit down Kaia.”

Kaia turned to run for the cabin. Kate moved first. A hatchet meant for splitting wood was buried in Kaia’s shoulder. She dropped hard, clutching the wound as blood spilled hot through her fingers.

“Kate—what the fuck—”

Kate stood over her breathing hard, almost trembling. Kaia scrambled backward through the dirt. The hatchet came down again, into her thigh, cracking her bone. Kate pounced, knocking her flat, knees pinning Kaia’s chest.

Kaia shoved at her but Kate slammed her head against the earth once. Twice.

Then dragged the hatchet blade down Kaia’s sternum. The blade opened her wide in a wet ripping sound. Blood pooled black in the firelight. She tried to breathe but only sobs came. “Kate…please…”

Kate tilted her head almost tenderly. Then sank both hands into the wound. Kaia’s eyes widened.

“No no no—”

With a savage wrench Kate tore upward. She reached deep inside and tore out her heart and pulled. Kate stood at last, chest heaving, drenched in blood. Then calmly dragged one of the Adirondack chairs closer. Set Kaia’s ruined body in it. Facing her toward the flames. And added another log to the fire.

…

The next morning the ferry came. Kate stood at the end of the dock, duffle bag at her feet. The ferry horn sounded low and hollow as the island slipped back into fog.

She didn’t look at it again.

Halfway across the water, she paused. For a moment, she frowned—like she’d forgotten something. Like she meant to say goodbye to someone. Then it passed.

By the time they reached the mainland, she couldn’t remember what it was.

Starting her SUV, the texts start pouring in, confirming she had signal again. She quietly types out a five star review.

★★★★★

Really an unforgettable place to spend a long weekend with friends. A few of us never wanted to leave.