“Hey,” Brad said, his cheeks pink the way they looked only after he’d had a few too many drinks. “What’s up?”
“Are you two planning to come home soon?” I asked, glancing out the dark window.
“It’s getting late,” Natasha added. “We were worried.”
Brad glanced at his wrist, though he wore no watch. “What time is it?”
“After midnight,” I said.
He put a hand to his forehead. “Holy shit. No way…” He patted Andy’s back. “We’ve gotta call it a night, man.”
“One more for the road,” Andy said, from where his head rested on the bar.
Brad looked at me, a question in his expression.
“You both look like you’ve had enough,” I said softly. “Let us help you get home.”
“There she goes, Mom-ing again,” Andy sang, lifting his head up sleepily and laying it back down.
“Andy, please—” I started to say.
“I’ll wait with them if you want,” Jaren said. “Make sure they get home safe. I can walk you two home and then come back for them.”
“No,” Natasha said. “I don’t want you walking back alone either. Laura and I will be fine. We should stay in pairs at night.”
Jaren didn’t appear to agree, but he gave in. “Are you sure?”
I chewed my lip, worried as much about Natasha and me walking home alone in the dark as I was about Brad and Andy walking home alone and drunk in the dark or Jaren walking alone, period.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Natasha said, gripping my arm. “But I want all three of you home soon, okay? I’ll wait with Laura at her hut. I’m talking twenty minutes, tops.”
Jaren nodded and leaned in, kissing her lips. She looked as shocked as I did.
“Be careful,” he whispered. “Go straight there.”
Her fingers went to her lips, and she nodded, her eyes growing misty. “We will. I’ll see you in a minute?”
“See you in a minute,” he promised, and I felt Natasha pulling me away. I waited for Brad to worry, to call after me, to say we should wait, but he didn’t. Instead, I watched him hold up two fingers to the bartender, ordering another round.
I ducked my head, spinning around to leave with Natasha, trying to hide the sheer terror I felt as we opened the doors and looked out into the black night.
Deep down, I couldn’t deny the voice in my head saying that this wasn’t a coincidence or bad timing. Something bad had happened to Emily, something worse than an accident, and the longer we stayed on the island, the closer I felt we’d be to meeting the same dreadful fate.
The next morning, I stared at my phone, wishing it would do more than tell me the time, which was 6:07 a.m. My alarm was scheduled to go off in just thirty minutes—I couldn’t bring myself to remove the notification about yoga on the beach every morning this week with Emily.
With a heavy heart and pounding head, I stood from the bed and unplugged my phone, switching off the alarm. I walked up the stairs to use the restroom and brush my teeth, swiped on deodorant, and tiptoed back down the stairs to the first floor. Outside, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, providing the light I so desperately craved. I wanted to get outside, my legs were itching to move, but I wouldn’t dare when it was still dark.
My footsteps were quiet on the wood flooring, but not quiet enough to keep from waking my husband. He rolled over in bed as I was pulling my workout pants on, one hand on his forehead as he groaned.
“Oh, God.” He released a long, drawn-out sigh and laid his head back down. “I feel like death.”
“Well, I’d imagine so,” I teased, trying to bite down the sting of his word choice. “After a hard night of partying like you were a college kid, not a forty-year-old man, I wouldn’t expect you to feel well.”
He winced, his eyes still shut. “I’m sorry, Lor. I didn’t plan to drink so much.” I watched him prop himself up on his elbows. “Are you mad?”
I pulled the shirt over my head, covering myself with one arm as I maneuvered the sports bra over my shoulders. No one should’ve been up, but that didn’t stop my uneasiness at our open windows, despite being too lazy to shut them for just a second’s change or walk back up the stairs to undress there. “No, I’m not mad. I wish you would’ve given me some sort of heads-up as to what was happening or where you’d be, but I’m not mad.” I pulled a pair of socks from my suitcase and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull them on. “How’s Andy doing?”
He drug his palm over his face. “Not any better than he was, honestly.”
“When are the police supposed to be here?” I asked, pulling on my shoes next. “I thought they’d be here yesterday, but Manu said something about having to send a boat out. I haven’t seen them.”
“We asked, too. Manu said the phone lines are still down, and without a way to contact the catamaran company, they have no way to get to the mainland.”
“You mean there aren’t any other boats here at all? I thought he said something about sending employees back to the mainland when the storm calmed down. I thought they’d already be there and back by now.”
“There is one, but as luck would have it, it’s being repaired right now. When I asked him what they normally do in an emergency if they don’t always have a working boat, he said they have a board-certified surgeon and two nurses on staff here to treat patients in case of an emergency. I guess they didn’t plan
