Locked

Chapter Twelve

The chief leaves me on the bluff. It’s not until he’s gone that I begin to understand what he means. What I have to do. What I will.

I climb down the mountain easily. The sun is shining brightly, and by the time I get back to the cottage, the water jug is empty. Noah isn’t there. I slip off my shoes and head out the back way down the path to the ocean.

I walk right in—feet, ankles, then knees—all the way up to my waist. The water is crisp and cool, and I dive under, letting the blast of cold dissolve into a sharp clarity. I come to the surface gasping, awake, alert. I think about the countless mornings begun with a cell phone alarm. That’s one thing I won’t miss. This way is better.

I flip onto my back and shut my eyes against the intensity of the sun. I just wish there was a way for them to know I was okay. Some message I could get to them. But what would I say? If they knew I was alive they’d never stop looking.

I open my eyes and begin to swim back to shore. No, they have to think there is no hope. That’s the only way. If we can’t leave, the chief will send them a message. I know he will.

I get out and wring my hair. It’s getting long. I can knot it without any kind of tie. I walk up the path. I’m so lost in my thoughts—going over what I want to say to Noah, how I will phrase it, arranging and rearranging the words—that I almost miss him. He’s seated on the deck, looking down on me. I climb up.

“Hey,” I say.

He smiles. “Busy day?”

I eye him, shrug. “I got hot. Did you catch anything?”

He nods and cocks his head in the direction of the kitchen. “A bunch, actually. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Me too.”

I hoist myself over the railing and go to sit down next to him. The wood floorboards are warm, and they feel good on my damp skin. “I realized something this morning,” I say. “About you. About the position of Healer.”

Noah doesn’t answer. He’s looking beyond me, down at the water. It’s like he’s seeing something else, lost in a different world. “I have something for you,” he says. He hands me a folded leaf that immediately opens when I take it. Inside is a tiny cowrie shell, with a hole in the top.

“I saw you lost your bottle cap,” he says, his eyes on the shell. “I thought you could wear this.”

I touch the gold strand around my neck. I feel my throat constrict.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. I take the gold chain off and slip the cowrie shell on. It slides down easily. “Will you?” I say, holding it out to Noah.

He edges closer to me and takes the necklace from my hands. I move my hair to the side as he loops the chain back around my neck. I feel his fingers on my skin as they gently find the clasp.

“There,” he says.

I turn around and look into his face—heavy, beautiful, so full of love. And I want now, more than anything, to tell him what I need to.

“Noah,” I say. I slide closer to him and take his face in my hands. “I want you to be here. I want you to be the Healer. They need you, you said it yourself. Tell them you’ll do it.” I don’t let my eyes leave his. “This is where you belong.”

He snorts. “Belong,” he says. He stops, looks at me. “And you?”

I swallow. “I want to stay with you.”

Noah shakes his head, pulls my hands down. “You’re just saying that because you don’t think there is another way.”

“Is there? Noah, we’ve been trying to figure out how to get off this island and failing, and maybe—maybe it’s time we tried to figure out how to stay.”