“This can happen with shock,” she’s saying. “Try to get her to take some water and let her rest. She’ll probably snap out of it by lunchtime.”
I roll over and pull the blankets up to my chin.
The next time I wake, Sue-Ellen is jostling me. “Christ on a bike,” she says, an edge of frustration in her voice. I open my eyes. “There you are! Rise and shine, honey, time to rejoin the land of the living.”
I stare at her blankly. I want to tell her that I haven’t been asleep the whole time. How, in the middle of the night, I watched the shadows move on the walls as time did its sluggish march forward. How I listened to the soft snores of my fellow campers, while tendrils of shame unfurled inside me, gripping my insides like a nightmare, until I slipped mercifully back into oblivion. But the words don’t come. I hear her frustrated sigh as I close my eyes, and I wish I could do something—anything—to show her I’m not as weak as she thinks I am.
But I can’t.
I sleep until I can sleep no more. I try to keep my eyes closed but they force themselves open. A dull, late-afternoon light filters through the window, casting long shadows on the walls. I look for patterns in the grain of the plywood. I see the face of a Yorkshire Terrier, the side profile of a man with a very weak chin, Chewbacca. I hear the front door creak open and I clamp my eyes shut. I don’t want to talk to anyone. But the footsteps come right for me. A warm hand grips my shoulder and gently rocks me. I smell coconuts and sweat.
I open my eyes. The light is dim, but I can clearly see the whites of Kei’s eyes and teeth in the gloom. He’s chewing his lip, his face stern and serious.
“What is it?” My voice sounds far away.
He looks down. “I have some bad news.”
“What is it? Are you okay?” I push myself up onto my elbows. My arms feel weak supporting my weight.
“I’m fine.” His voice is flat. He looks me in the eye for the first time in a long time. “You know that smell in the storeroom?”
I nod, wrinkling my nose, as if I could smell it right then and there.
“I figured out where it’s coming from. It’s the rice. The extra sacks— they’re all rotten.” I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. “They must have gotten wet at some point,” Kei says, shaking his head. “So we’re running out of food.”
“How much do we have?” I whisper.
“A day’s worth, maybe two.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah.” He sighs again. “And Damian and Giovanni still aren’t back. They’ve been gone for two and a half days.” This jolts me. Two and a half days? How long did I sleep? How could I have just gone to bed when our friends are missing?
“We have to get off this island,” I say to Kei. He nods, his expression so serious it scares me. “The raft—is it done?”
He shakes his head. “We gathered some logs, but none of them are right. We can’t get it to work.”
I heave a sigh. I feel so helpless. Everyone has been out there, working to get us out of here, and I’ve been in bed, doing nothing, except proving what a weak, useless piece of shit I am.
Fuck this.
Suddenly, I’m struck by a realization, like a bolt of lightning out of the clear blue sky. It isn’tlovethat’s the problem; it’s scam artists and con men and letting them get away with their bullshit—that’sthe problem. What if love—the thing that I thought had made me weak,that made me ignore every red flag that was punching me in the face, as well as all my internal pleas for self-preservation—what if love could make me strong?
“I’ll swim across the lake.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
My voice is strong, belying the terror I’m feeling. I can’t let myself be a victim anymore. When Dylan left, I did nothing. I just let him get away with it. And I’ll be damned if I let history repeat itself.
“Cleo—”
“No, Kei, listen. I can do it. I’ve swum every day I’ve been here, and I’ve gotten pretty good. I might not make it to the Olympics, but I can make it across that lake.”
He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not. I can’t let you—”
“Then what are we going to do?” I explode, ripping the blankets back and springing to my feet. The sudden action makes me dizzy, but I push my feet firmly into the floor. “If we don’t get off this island, likenow, then we will all die here. Come on,” I say, grabbing my bikini from my drawer. “I’ll go now.”
“Cleo, slow down. It’ll be dark in an hour. You can’t go now. Let’s go down to the beach and talk about it with the others. This should be a group decision.”
