The Backseat Witness

No one let June go to the lake house.

That did not mean June stayed behind.

Elise discovered her in the back of Theo's SUV five miles outside Westport, curled under a borrowed police jacket with Vivian's cracked phone clutched to her chest.

Claire, in the passenger seat, turned around and went white. "June."

"Do not start," June said. "I am tired, scared, and technically rich in a name I do not use."

Theo pulled onto the shoulder. "This is not a debate."

"Good," June said. "Then drive."

Elise got out and opened the rear door. Rain blew in off the marsh road. "Martin may be at the lake house."

"That is why I am here."

"That is why you should not be."

June's face trembled, but she did not back down. "He used my adoption, my school account, my birth mother, my mom, and my dead grandmother. Adults keep telling me to stay safe while they lose files. I am done being protected into ignorance."

Claire closed her eyes. The words hurt because they were earned.

Theo looked at Elise over the roof. Police units were behind them, but Roslyn's car had turned off to coordinate with county deputies. They had one clean minute to make a bad choice.

"She stays in the car," Elise said.

"Elise," Claire said.

"No. She stays in the car, doors locked, with you. If she gets out, I carry her back myself."

June considered that. "Fine."

"Say it."

"I stay in the car."

Elise shut the door and hated every adult who had made that promise the least bad option.

The lake house came into view twenty minutes later, a dark cedar shape above black water. No lights. No visible car.

Theo parked behind the old boathouse instead of the drive.

Elise knew the dock path by memory. Wet pine, rotten boards, a narrow cut through reeds.

Halfway down, she saw fresh footprints in the mud.

One set went toward the house.

One set was small, dragged, and barefoot.