Even Viv looks defeated now, staring down at the waves. I hope for her bossy attitude, her insistence we try, but she stays silent.
“Look, the thunder and lightning is a good sign in that it means the hurricane is probably moving away from us, but we can’t risk being out on the water in these conditions,” Trey explains, and he appears genuinely upset. His eyes keep flicking to the boiling surface of the ocean as if perhaps it has calmed down in the last few seconds.
“There’s not even any lightning!” I protest. Right on cue, a forked flash of white light illuminates the sky behind Ligia.
“I’m sorry,” Trey says, shoulders sagging. “We can’t risk losingany more people. Maybe she’ll make it to Ligia. We can pick her up after the storm dies down. She’ll be safe there.”
“That’s a difficult swim, even on a good day,” I snap. “That’s what Fiona said, remember? There are riptides and rocks and you think she’s going to be able to make that in a storm?”
“She’s a strong swimmer. Stronger than Carl and I put together. If anyone can make it, she can.” Trey’s voice is resigned. Like he’s trying to convince himself but doesn’t have the motivation to do so.
“I saw her go under,” I finally admit, hoping it’ll spur him to move faster, reconsider.
“Then maybe it’s too late anyway,” Trey said. He turns to me, frowning now. “You’d have us risk our lives for someone who might already be gone? We can’t throw away the few advantages we have in this situation to rescue a drunk!”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
The fight goes out of Trey and he shrugs. “I wish it were different. But I’m not going to die to save a girl who’s already dead.”
A thrum of anger builds in my chest. I’m so sick of this man being the one to call the shots. Two people have already died on this boat, and he might have something to do with it. Now a third may be drowning as we speak. How can he be so cavalier about the lives lost? “So much for her making it to the island, huh?”
Trey avoids my glare and starts to walk away.
I look to the twins and Viv for help, but they’re wearing similarexpressions of hopelessness and regret. Rachel is pressing her hands against her eyes, shoulders shaking.
“It’s not safe,” Viv chokes out. For once, she is emoting something real, something I can feel emanating from her in waves as heavy as the ones below us.
Over Viv’s shoulder, Fiona stands in the open door, head bowed, watching us through the storm. The deck itself shows evidence of the violence around us—the potted plants and chair cushions are gone, swept away like Piper in the water.
They’ve all made their decision. And there’s nothing I can do about it.
Piper is gone.
Chapter 28
It’s the first time we’ve gathered on the main level since Carl’s death.
Granted, we’re giving his body a wide berth—we’re sitting on the fancy couches the farthest from his shrouded body, dripping all over the cream-colored leather and shiny teak floors.
It’s silent except for theplips of water from our clothes and hair. Viv had made a slight noise of protest as we sat down, getting the sofas wet, but when Trey glared at her, daring her to say something, she shook her head and took a seat along with the rest of us.
I sit close to Fiona, hoping to feel warmth from her body—the only dry one in the room. But it’s not working. Everything about me is cold and frozen.
I keep replaying the conversation I had with Piper on the roof over and over again. Dissecting what she said. Trying to figure out what she had been thinking when she jumped overboard. Was she tryingto kill herself? I didn’t think so; she had immediately started swimming purposefully toward Ligia. I think she simply couldn’t take it anymore, was pushed to her breaking point. I remember the crazed look on her face, the way her eyes were popping out of her head.
Whatever happened with Elena, it broke Piper. That much was clear.
“Two of us are gone,” Rachel says, breaking the silence with a mousy voice. “I can’t believe it. Two people, dead…”
“Technically three,” Fiona says.
The other girls stiffen; the twins look at her askance. Viv’s mouth presses into a tight pout. Trey, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be listening—he is staring over in the direction of Carl’s body.
“Fee…” There’s a clear warning in Viv’s voice.
“No, it’s true,” Fiona says, sitting up taller and glaring at Viv. Fiona’s eyes are shadowed with purple; not from makeup but from lack of sleep. “Why pretend? Why do you think Piper was such a fucking mess, Vivienne?”
“Not. Now.” Viv’s face is twisting. “Walk it off, Fiona. God knows you could use it.”
