Chapter 17: The Inbox

Knox's POV

Every morning since our wedding I had written my wife an email at 5:55 a.m., before the first boat.

It was never anything much.

"Good morning. Fog on the harbor until nine. Please advise coffee."

I wrote them from the ferry account, because that is how she and I began, and I did not know any other way to say good morning to Vin Hargrove.

She never answered one.

I told myself she did not read email at home.

On Wednesday, with the harbor still dark and Vin asleep upstairs, I opened the sent folder to see how many answers I had missed.

I read the address line of the top one.

It was spelled with one letter wrong.

I opened the next one down, and it was spelled wrong too.

So was every other one, back to the wedding.

The wrong address was the one the ferry company's contact list had held since that week.

I knew who kept the contact list.

I sat there for a minute with my hands flat on the desk.

I do not raise my voice, and I have never needed to, but I could feel my pulse in my teeth.

My sister had been in that inbox since she was seventeen, and I had always been grateful for it.

She had read every email Vin sent me for two years.

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