As the little girl fell asleep on my chest in the middle of unchartered waters, I fixated on the spot where Estelle and Conner had disappeared.

I wanted to know, too.

I wanted to know what they found.

I was just terrified of the answer.

Chapter Thirteen

...............................................

E S T E L L E

......

Breathe. That’s all you have to do. Breathe. When life shines brightly. Breathe. When the world turns its back. Breathe. When nothing works out. Breathe. When luck favours kindly. Inhale with hope and exhale with distrust.

Breathe.

That’s all you’ve got.

After all...that’s all you can ever do.

Lyrics: ‘Breathe’ Taken from the notepad of E.E.

...

“THAT’S IT, THEN.”

My voice was calm and accepting while inside, I was a crying disaster. However, I couldn’t break down. I couldn’t scream with fear or beg fate for a second chance. Not with a child beside me. A child looking up to me to be strong and brave.

“I guess.” Conner gasped in pain as we leapt over a fallen palm tree and padded down the beach to the shore. We’d explored the other side of the island. We’d found that there was nothing on this side, just like there was nothing on that.

We were stranded.

Alone.

Utterly marooned and unwanted.

Tears welled but I forced them down. The pain from my ribs kept me centred and the knowledge that things had to be taken care of (if we had any hope of existing past the next couple of days) weighed heavier and heavier on my mind.

Where do we begin?

How do we begin?

Conner groaned as his wrist bounced again. He’d nursed it every step we’d taken. It killed me to see him in pain and not help.

Yanking him to a stop, I asked, “You’re hurt?”

Bravado existed in his gaze but he couldn’t hide it. He looked away, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I’m all right.”

“You can tell me.”

He sighed, glancing at the sand beneath our feet. He still wore his sneakers—scuffed and highlighter green—while I wore my silver ballet flats. Blisters had formed on my instep and big toe, but I couldn’t take them off—not yet. Not until I found my handbag and the pair of flip-flops I’d hurriedly packed before boarding the helicopter.

What I wouldn’t give for my suitcase.

I had sunblock in there. A floppy hat. A first-aid kit.

Everything I didn’t think I’d need for an overnight stay had suddenly turned into every precious requirement.

“Ouch.” Conner flinched as I ran my fingers along his wrist.

The skin puffed with swelling, red with discomfort.

My stomach twisted. Not only was Galloway, myself, and Pippa hurt, but it looked like Conner was as well.

Damn, were we all in pieces?

I delivered the news as gently as I could. “You’re going to be okay, but...”

“It’s broken, isn’t it?”

I glanced up, meeting his angry, fearful eyes. “I think so.”

He huffed. “Figured.”

“It doesn’t mean it can’t be set.”

“How? Do you see a doctor and an X-ray machine around here?”

I smiled at his morbid humour. “Not exactly, but humans healed from breaks long before a doctor had the ability to make plaster casts.”

Conner stiffened. “Whatever.”

Sliding my fingers from his wrist, I took his hand. “May I?”

His eyes widened but he nodded.

Guiding him toward the border of where the forest met the beach, I sat down in the soft sand, taking him with me. Switching to face each other, I gently felt his wrist again—just as I’d done with Galloway’s leg.

Unlike Galloway, my lungs didn’t asphyxiate with overpowering desire. I didn’t understand my snappy shyness or nonsensical attraction toward him. When he’d looked down my top and seen the cut from the seat belt, I’d wanted to slap him for thinking he had the right to protect me but also for the way his eyes burned with lust.

The opinionated Englishman rose full force in my thoughts. Conner and I had been gone for over an hour, but the annoyance Galloway caused still simmered.

What was his deal? I was only trying to help, but he kept growling at me as if he couldn’t stand to have me near.

He’d wanted me (unless I misread the way he watched me) but that had no place here.

We didn’t have time for egos or desire. Not now. If this truly was an island and we were the only people on it, we had to stick together and find some way to survive side by side.

Conner didn’t move as I felt along the bony angles of his wrist.

I had no idea what I was feeling for. Sharp edges? Misaligned ligaments? Even if I did, I wouldn’t know if it was normal or wrong. Plus, if I did somehow know what was wrong, what on earth could I do about it?

I couldn’t even offer generic painkillers, let alone assure him he’d heal intact with no ill effects. However, I knew from experience that fake confidence was better than panicked horror, especially where children were concerned.

Smiling brightly, I let him go. “I might be wrong. It could just be a nasty sprain. But let’s be on the safe side and make you a splint. How does that sound?”

“A splint?”

Grabbing a straight-ish stick, I nodded. The bark had weathered into the silvery softness of driftwood. It wouldn’t stab him and would hopefully keep his bone in line to heal. I didn’t know how long it would take to knit together, but this was all I could offer.