when Reese says, “Is she dead or alive?”
A hot rush of anger, bright and shattering, because I’ve been pushing that thought back since the infirmary, and couldn’t she let me? “What kind of question is that?”
“An important one,” she says. “You’re not an idiot, Hetty. You know what usually happens to girls like us.”
“None of this is what usually happens.” I take a deep breath, clench my fists. Don’t let it in. She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive. “Girls don’t usually disappear like this. That has to mean something.”
“Yeah,” Reese says. “I think it means she’s already dead.”
I push back from the bunk, ignore the panic swelling in my gut. Reese is wrong, and Byatt is fine. “Then how come we haven’t burned her? She’s alive. I have to find her. I just do.”
“And then what? We can’t help her.”
She’s right, of course. But it doesn’t matter. “We can get through it with her,” I say. “That’s all we have left. And I’m not giving it up. I might not know where she is right now, but I know where she’ll be tomorrow night. I’m going out there after her.”
“You can’t do that.” Reese’s voice is low, urgent as she leans closer. “You know you can’t. It’s breaking quarantine.”
“So what?” I say. “I’m Boat Shift. Boat Shift is allowed past the fence.”
She rolls her eyes. “I think they meant that for going to pick up supplies and not sneaking after your friend.”
I wave it away. They’ve always told us the quarantine is the most important thing, but if I’m choosing between it and Byatt, it’s no choice at all.
“And even if you did go out there,” Reese continues, “how would you get back in past the fence?” She pulls at the end of her braid with silver fingers, her split ends starting to fray. “The gate locks and—”
“I’ll climb over it,” I say hotly. “I’ll figure it out. I’m not worried about that.”
“I am,” she says, but she’s looking at me, her face open and unsure, and there it is, that kick in my chest, that reaching I’ve been trying to ignore since we met.
“Come with me,” I say. “We’ll go together.”
It’s magic. One second she’s in it with me, her head bent close to mine, and then she’s settled back into that posture I know so well. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes emptied of heart.
“No,” she says. “No, you do what you want, but I won’t go with you.”
For once I’m not willing to let it lie. This is too important, all of it. “Why not?”
She makes an exasperated sound. “Hetty—”
Whatever patience I had left is gone. I’m gripping the edge of the bunk so hard I can feel a splinter bite deep into my palm. “What is wrong with you? Byatt’s our friend. Don’t you want her to be okay?”
“Wanting has nothing to do with it,” she says, but it’s pouring out of me, louder than I should be, angrier than I expected.
“Because I know you don’t care.” I keep on, a bitter twist to my words. “I know that makes you better than me, but I can’t just write the whole world off like you do.”
“I don’t care? Are you—” And then she breaks off like it hurts. For a second I can see it all laid out across her. The longing and the resignation and the betrayal, the sting of watching the island she loves steal the people she pretends she doesn’t.
“Oh,” I say. My voice thick, lodged in my throat. I’ve spent every day since I met her telling myself the wrong thing. Telling myself over and over that she was cold, when maybe she was burning the whole time. “I’m sorry. Jesus, Reese, I’m sorry.”
Her parents both gone, and this is what it did to her. This is the wreck it left behind. I should have seen it. I should have seen how she loves as hard as I do. Only I think it pins her down where it picks me up.
“I wish I could,” she says, not looking at me. “I wish I could be like you. But I can’t go looking for her if I couldn’t go looking for him. I thought Boat Shift was the only way past the fence, but here you are, ready to tear it down with your bare hands.” She lets out a shaking breath, and then softly, “Why couldn’t I do that for my dad?”
For once I think I know what to say.