Taking my elbow, she ordered, “Go sit back down, before you fall.”

I shrugged her off. Couldn’t she see her concern only made me hate myself more?

“Leave me alone.”

She winced, dropping her hand. “You don’t have to do this. You need to rest.”

I rounded on her. “Oh, I don’t, do I? So you’re happy to sleep in the elements? Or are you going to use that Swiss Army knife and build a damn mansion? Show me up yet again?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not showing you up—”

“You think caring for us gives you a purpose?” I snorted. “Well, stop being a hypocrite and let me help for a change.”

“Hypocrite? How am I a hypocrite?”

Conner sidled up to Estelle, instinctually protecting the woman over someone much bigger than her.

I ignored the kid. “You’re hurt yourself. Don’t think I didn’t notice you strapped your ribcage and gasp every time you bloody move. You expect us to heal and relax but what about you?” Shoving her away from me, I pointed at the camp. “Sit down, shut up, and let me do something. I need to do something. Let me help rather than treat me like a useless invalid.”

The standoff lasted far too long. The glint in her eyes warned she wouldn’t give in.

Conner was the saving grace.

He tugged Estelle’s elbow. “He’s right. My wrist isn’t as painful thanks to you, and Pippa’s cut is clean because of what you did. Let us look after you in return.”

Estelle suddenly slapped her forehead. “Damn, Pippa’s injury. I forgot.” Flashing me a scowl, she smiled at Conner and dashed to Pippa. “Pip, now that your back is clean, let’s put some cream and the Band-Aid on that we found in the medical pack. What do you think?”

Damn woman didn’t know how to stop. Her caring for others would only hurt herself in the long run.

It’s her coping mechanism.

Mine was to become a complete and utter asshole so people left me alone to self-damage. But hers was the exact opposite.

She was purity while I was filth.

Fine.

She could be my opposite and I would do my best to mirror her goodness—starting with building a shelter.

My voice bordered on a growl. “Want to help, Conner?”

Conner looked up. “Help with what?”

“Dunno. I’ll figure it out when I know.”

“You really think we can build a house?”

No.

“Yes.” I hobbled deeper into the forest. “You coming?”

He followed, laughing wryly. “Broken wrist and broken leg. I don’t like our odds.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“And how did it work out for you?”

Crap. Worse than crap. It ruined my screwed-up life.

“Perfectly fine.” I grinned as if it were nothing. “We’re men. Nothing is unachievable.”

Conner rolled his eyes. “Okay, we’ll give it a go, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Chapter Nineteen

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

E S T E L L E

......

I hate you. The sky cries with how much I hate you. The plants die with how much I hate you. I hate you for leaving. I hate you for dying. I hate you.

But that’s all a lie.

I don’t hate you. I love you. That’s the truth. The sun rises with how much I love you. The weather warms with how much I love you. And the potted flower you gave me the morning you died...it blooms every second with how much I miss you.

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

...

WE NEVER DID achieve a roof over our heads.

Another night descended and we nibbled on our second-to-last muesli bar and final sticks of beef jerky. Using the small axe from the cockpit, we split open the two coconuts Conner and I had found.

Unfortunately, our technique sucked and we hit too hard, losing the sweet water all over the sand.

I berated myself until my eyes prickled with angry tears. We didn’t get to drink the nectar, but at least we were able to share the flesh, scraping the coconut with the Swiss Army knife and pretending it was dessert to round out our lacklustre dinner.

No one mentioned the awful situation of a working cell-phone with no signal. No one could bear the admission that the final nail had been hammered into our lonely tomb.

It was as if it never happened and I hated shouldering the responsibility for taunting them with hope.

The battery on my phone had hit forty percent before the sun went down, and I tucked it safely away for tomorrow’s solar charge.

But...what was the point?

The phone had turned into a paperweight. Emergency numbers didn’t work. Wifi, data, calls...nothing.

Useless.

Just like everything else on this island.

Just like me.

The constant hollowness in my stomach grew worse as hours ticked into days. I’d never gone without food for so long, and already, I felt things shutting down. I rarely needed to pee, and everything was hazy—as if I’d entered a realm where comprehension was blanketed with syrup.

I was lethargic, short-tempered, and depressed.

By the time we curled into our sandy beds (Pippa wrapped in my arms and Galloway refusing to admit he wasn’t well enough to build a shelter), I fell into the first sleep I’d had since crash landing.

Not because I was utterly exhausted and my body finally forced me to rest. But because dreams were so much better than reality.