In a small town haunted by unsolved disappearances, a teen with a secret ability must unravel a deadly mystery -- before she becomes the next victim. Mendocino is not the quaint coastal California town Zayn Pereira imagined. It's shrouded in a fog that never lets up. Posters of a missing teen girl are plastered everywhere, and just offshore is an island called Rainsong, rumored to be haunted. At her new school, everyone is tense and suspicious of each other. So when charismatic Ollie takes Zayn under her wing, it's a relief -- but is her charm hiding something? People assume brooding Tiago, the missing girl's ex-boyfriend, is responsible for her disappearance...but Zayn can't keep her eyes off him. Is he really who everyone says he is? Besides, Zayn has a secret of her own. And when Tiago is struck by a car one night, she is forced to reveal it to save him. In doing so, Zayn discovers her connection to a generations-old feud that still rages today. Can she break herself from the grip of Mendocino's past tragedy? Or will she become the next girl on the missing poster? Filled with angsty romance, supernatural powers, murder, and vengeance, this is a chilling and propulsive read. " Fresh and atmospheric … unputdownable [through] the last breathless twist.” —Jihyun Yun, bestselling author of And The River Drags Her Down. ★ "Cinematic settings, pulse-pounding pacing, and a distinctively rendered, culturally diverse cast propel a wholly original and fiercely character-driven tale that grapples with generational trauma and economic disparity." — Publishers Weekly , starred review "The premise is compelling, and.... deliciously terrifying ." — Kirkus Reviews The daughter of Afghan and Australian immigrants, LILA RIESEN was raised in the United States. Her undergraduate studies in English were completed at Indiana University and the Australian National University. In 2017, Lila graduated with a master’s degree in English literature and linguistics from the University of Zurich in Switzerland. She is the author of Free Radicals , a YA novel, inspired by her cashew-coveting baba and all the Afghans fighting for peace, in the US and abroad. Chapter One On the eve of every move, Padar—my dad—acts like the neighbors are seconds from descending on our house with torches and pitchforks. A planned eight a.m. wake-up becomes a frantic two a.m. load-up. It’s a ten-hour drive to where we’re going, but the GPS won’t be necessary. It’s a straight shot north from Newport Beach to Mendocino. We’ve called Newport “home” for thirteen whole months— a record. But I hated it here, even before the accident. Padar’s jumpy for nothing. There are no signs of life on our sleepy street. Across the road and down the rocky slope to the ocean, waves collapse under a full moon. A lone four-legged figure noses at a tangle of seaweed. Coyote, probably. Kai-ote. That was how Hoosiers pronounced it in Indiana. The memory is so random I nearly laugh, but it’s hard to see the humor in things when your whole life is boxed up in the back of an SUV. For the fourth time, Padar pats the pocket of his jeans for his wallet. His paranoia, his grief, his whatever the hell is going on inside that brilliant coder head has only gotten worse since Uncle died. He’s worn himself to a shadow. A few months ago, an intexticated driver ran a stop and twisted Uncle’s new Schwinn like a pipe cleaner. It was only a matter of time until Padar broke the news that we were moving again. He sets his hand on the middle console and turns to look at us, his collar damp with sweat. “Got everything?” he whispers. “ Everything ,” I confirm. Twelve boxes this time. Just the essentials. Most of them are Mania’s. Seven years old, and already a sentimental pack rat. “Your sister?” As if he can’t see her slumped in the booster seat next to me. “Taken care of.” By me. Always me. The way it’s been since Uncle and I brought her home from the hospital. Padar stayed behind with the doctors and the buzzing machines. Mum never made it home. Sometimes I think Padar didn’t, either. I brush Mania’s hair from her face. She groans, fingers groping for Orchy, her stuffed orca. I return the plush to her and she snoozes once more. Mania was more pissy than me about the move, not wanting to leave her gigantic group of friends, of which she was queen bee. She’ll make more. Mania’s a friend magnet. Padar reverses from the drive. I don’t look back. I can’t. I should be mad at him for uprooting me mid–junior year. Instead, I’m relieved. I’ve trashed my life here. Still, my stomach flips the way it always does when Padar deploys Operation Phoenix: setting fire to our lives and birthing new ones from the ashes. I treated Newport Beach High like all the other schools, walking in an alternative reality where it didn’t matter what I did because I’d get a redo in a few months’ time. Friends, teachers, boys, even my identity: disposable. The problem is, each New M