“Well,” Shawn says, furrowing her brow. “Seems he’s out looking for his cousin. He’s… they think he’s missing.”
Heat travels up my neck, lodging in my throat. “Missing?” I repeat quietly. “Which cousin?”
Shawn is slow to answer, and I cover my mouth, already guessing who she’s talking about. Fear tightens in my gut.
“It’s Felix,” she says, putting her hand on my leg to steady me. But my eyes are already welling up.
“Is he okay?” I ask. “Do they know if he’s okay?”
Shawn shrugs apologetically, not having the answer.
Has something happened to Felix? It’s an idea I don’t even want to think about. I’m sickened with it. I blink back tears and turn toward the water.
Felix Mancini was my brother’s best friend. We practically grew up together, even if he was from the Collective. He was one of us, spending more time on the beach or at the Surf Shack then in the fancy resort that his uncle owned. And although I haven’t seen him in months… he’s still important to me. He has to be okay. I turn to Shawn again, and she nods at my question before I can ask.
“Felix will be fine,” she assures me confidently. “He’s tougher than he looks. He’s tougher than the entire Collective combined. Honestly? He probably just needed to get away from his toxic family for a while. He’ll be back.”
I want to believe her, and I think I do. Mostly. Felix is smart, and he is tough. And then, of course, there is the coincidence too big to ignore, even if I’m afraid to hope it. “Do you think maybe Felix is with my brother?” I ask quietly.
Shawn nods a little, as if maybe that was her first thought. “It would make sense,” she says. “They were always inseparable.”
I’m immediately comforted, a warm splash of relief. Of course they’re together—I know Felix has missed him. When my brother was first gone, Felix would still come by, checking in on us. Then it became less and less frequent until it stopped altogether. Sometimes I’d see him around Cape Hope, but his big brown eyes could barely look at me. Without Ellis, we were both a little lost. It’s not entirely implausible that he went looking for him.
And if that’s the case, I’m glad. At least someone is.
“There it is!” Tech yells suddenly, startling us. I look over and find him pointing forward, a smile plastered across his face.
I leap up and dash over to join him, adrenaline pumping as I try to figure out which of the islands he’s pointing toward, considering all of them look exactly the same to me. Although I’m sure I’ve passed this area a hundred times before, I don’t recognize any of it—as if the hurricane unlocked some new dimension.
“Which one?” I demand, pushing his shoulder. Until this moment, I’m not sure I really believed the island was out here. Now I’m ready to believe. “Tech, show me.”
He calls to Shawn. “Take the wheel,” he tells her, “and stay to the right.”
When she takes over, Tech tugs my sleeve, and I follow him to the front of the boat. He puts one foot up on the bench and outstretches his arm. “That one,” he tells me. “Dead center.”
I squint as if it’ll help me see it better, and then I actually can see it. I smile as my heart begins to thrum with excitement. Up ahead is a small island, and right through the middle is a path of damage that the storm cut through the trees. The newly uncovered beach is littered with branches and shells. My smile fades slightly. There are no buildings here.
“Go around back!” Tech calls to Shawn, whirling his hand in a loop.
As we circle the island, I strain as I try to find anything structural hidden between the trees. All I can make out is a patchwork of overgrownpalms and thick foliage. It’s your typical deserted island, nothing unusual. Nothing promising. My stomach tightens in disappointment, and even the cuts on my arm begin to sting again.
“I’m sorry, Tech,” I say, turning to him. “But I don’t think this is big enough to be Rum Runner.”
He shakes his head, a fierce energy in his voice. “You’re just not seeing it,” he argues. “It could have been bigger. Four decades ago, it could have been twice this size.”
“I know, but—”
“Noa, look,” Shawn interrupts, her voice a sharp contrast to the heaviness in the air. Her eyes are locked ahead, wide and excited.
I follow her gaze, and when I see it, my breath catches in my throat.
“No way,” I whisper, stepping forward, my heart pounding faster. There, just up ahead, I can see faint outlines of geometric shapes among the softness of the trees.
Rooftops, half sunken in the sand. Faded, crumbling like a forgotten world. I shield the glare of the sun with my palm, trying to get a better look. There are at least five buildings, all huddled together. They’re small, too small to be a hotel—but still, unmistakably man-made.
Unfortunately, their placement is so close to the beach, it means they can easily become resubmerged at any moment, lost again with a high tide. Tech was right. This is our chance.
“Grab the anchor,” Shawn commands, killing the engine. “I don’t want to get to—”
