*
Sam awoke to the burn of saltwater in his mouth, pushing down his throat like a snake slithering inside of him.
He coughed, but the wet strips of cloth covering his face repelled the water back into his mouth.
He ripped the shirt pieces from his face and spun and pumped his arms and legs, coughing as another wave slammed into him.
He closed his eyes and mouth and waited while the wave crested and passed.
When he had emptied his mouth and caught his breath, Sam opened his eyes and realized the sea was no longer an expanse of glass with gentle ridges. It was choppy and dimpled, the falling rain punching a pattern of holes all around him.
Rain.
He threw his head back and opened his mouth, his tongue reaching out, lapping up every drop. His arms and legs and the buoyant garments kept him out of the water as he closed his eyes again and drank from the sky.
The drops of rain collected in his mouth like grains of sand through an hourglass, slow at first, then stacking atop each other until Sam took a gulp, and in it, he tasted hope. What happened next brought even more.
He opened his eyes again and caught sight of the sun. It was low in the sky, threatening to escape beyond the horizon. At that line between light and dark, he saw salvation: a tiny glimpse of land, small and looming.
Pangea.
Waiting for him.
TWENTY-TWO
In the bathroom at Constance’s home, Adeline stared at herself in the mirror until the tears stopped and she had convinced herself that she could do what she had come there to do.
Constance rose when Adeline returned.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Adeline shook her head. “It’s not you. This is why I came here. I need to work through my feelings.”
They sat, and this time Constance seemed resigned to listen rather than talk. She asked Adeline a series of questions, and finally she said, “Dani tells me you’re taking a semester off.”
“I am.”
“And interning at Absolom.”
“Yes.”
“I admit, when Dani emailed us, I was opposed to it.”
That surprised Adeline. “Why?”
“I don’t think Absolom—or college, for that matter—is where you should be right now.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You should get away from here, Adeline. I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but it seems to me that someone used you to get to your father.” The older woman held up a bony, spotted hand. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
“Not at all. I agree with you.”
“Staying here, in my view, is dangerous. And not just for your physical safety. You risk your mental health, which, frankly, is any person’s last resource, a citadel you can rebuild from. When I envision you walking through the doors of Absolom Sciences, I can only imagine the hurt you’ll feel, seeing his picture on the wall in that lobby, knowing you’re walking the halls he did. The looks you’ll get. It’ll only remind you of him and what you’ve lost. That’s the last thing you need right now.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“Get away, Adeline. Go to Europe. Or Asia. Or just take a long cruise around the world and don’t look back. And don’t come back until you can see a picture of your father or hear his name without crying inside—or outside. That’s how you’ll know you’re healed.”
Adeline had to admit: it was tempting. She imagined herself standing on the deck of a ship, looking out at the open sea, hearing the clink of champagne glasses behind her, waves crashing on the bow below, a warm wind blowing through her hair. But mentally, as she put herself in that place, she knew the truth, and she spoke it next.
“I don’t think I could ever travel far enough to outrun the hurt I feel. But I might work my way through it.”
Constance smiled—a sad, somber smile that seemed to wrap Adeline in its arms. “I know exactly how you feel.”
Constance turned, and Adeline realized that Gretta was standing on the patio. She pointed to her watch. “Sorry, ma’am. It’s time.”
Constance thanked her and rose. “When you get to my age—when your health starts failing you—there’s a lot of maintenance. If you’ll excuse me.”
Constance exited the room and ascended the staircase in slow, labored steps.
Adeline watched as Gretta strode off the patio, past the pool, and back to the guesthouse just beyond, which must have been where she lived or at least stayed while she was on duty.
Adeline sensed that this was her moment. It wouldn’t last, but it would be the best chance she had. Now or never. Commit or give up.