at this suspect?
There was a way to try to get there. It was the one thing Zoe hadn’t wanted to do, above all else: to try to get inside Shelley’s head. To remember the things Shelley had taught her, to see Shelley’s way of thinking. It would hurt like hell. It would burn. But Zoe couldn’t see any other way forward.
She had to know. And that meant she had to go there—right into the heart of her pain.
She closed her eyes, rolling onto her back again and letting her head lie flat on the bed without the pillow. It was better this way. More like the way she needed to feel. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way it tremored at the end, and counted it: one. Then another. Two. Three. Four.
Fear flared up inside Zoe, making her panic, squeezing an unwanted whimper right from her throat. Her eyes flew open on the unthreatening white ceiling, stained here and there with nicotine and flaking down in certain patches. No, she had to be strong. She could do this. She forced her eyes closed and started again, a deep breath in. One.
Two.
Three.
Four, then five, then six, all the way to ten. She made it without trying to turn back again. It was now or never. She knew the island was there, waiting for her. It was always there.
Zoe kept her eyes closed, at first. She breathed deeply, inhaling the wonderful clean air of her secluded paradise. She felt the air mattress under her, not a solid bed anymore but a cushioned surface holding her above the water, gently rocking with the current. It was calm and peaceful. Every now and then, a tropical bird called out from the trees. The sun beamed down on her with a reassuring warmth, soothing her cares away.
Zoe eased her eyes open, taking in the bright blue sky. A single cloud was visible, placed exactly in the right position to stop Zoe from having to squint. She could see easily. High above, a bird wheeled, then dove toward the water in search of fish.
Zoe allowed her eyes to trail down after it, turning her head to the side to keep it in her field of vision. Now she was looking in the direction of the shore, her eyes on the water but with the sand in her periphery. All she had to do was turn a little further and she would see it.
Zoe didn’t. She sat up instead, keeping her gaze down close by, at the crystal-blue waters and the small disturbances her hands caused as she dipped into them. She pushed backward through the small waves, propelling herself toward the shore. When the front of the air mattress hit sand, Zoe put her feet down, pushing herself up to stand and drag her makeshift boat up out of the reach of the waves.
The sand shifted underfoot, soft and warm from the heat of the sun. It was pleasant enough that she would have liked to bury her feet there for a while, let it warm her. But she had to move on. She couldn’t stay here, looking back out at the sea, avoiding the one thing she knew was behind her.
The one person.
A hammock stretched between two trees by the water, shaded by the leafy fronds overhead, cooled by the ocean breeze; a perfect resting point. Zoe made herself turn and look and see Shelley cradled inside it, lifting her hand in a silent wave. She was holding a coconut with the top chopped off, a straw and a jaunty cocktail umbrella sticking out of the side. There was a paperback book open on her stomach, pushed flat to save her page. Despite the warmth, Shelley was immaculate as ever, her blonde hair knotted into a smooth bun at the back of her head, her lips shiny with pink lipstick. She lifted up a pair of black sunglasses and grinned as Zoe walked closer, showing off her matching eyeshadow.
“Hey, Z,” she said, sounding just like she always had. “Did you miss me?”
“Yes,” Zoe said immediately, stopping right in front of Shelley. She dropped herself down into a beach chair that was at exactly the right height for them to talk. A lump welled up in her throat as she addressed the thing she had avoided telling anyone else for all this time, strangling her words. “All the time. You don’t even know how much.”
“Yes, I do,” Shelley said. “I know.” She smiled