The morning sun glared down on the ocean, sending glittering sparkles lancing into everyone’s eyes. All that remained of the burned dock were the jagged support struts, spaced out at even intervals in the water.
Marlowe wore her serving-platter hat and cat’s-eye sunglasses, looking impossibly chic as always as she watched the horizon.
Plum felt stale and wrinkled.
“Is that it?” Cici asked, pointing out into the ocean. Like Marlowe, she looked very put-together and not at all like she’d spent the better part of the night starting awake at the slightest noise, scared that a killer would creep up in her sleep.
Then again, maybe that was just Plum who did that.
And Sofia. Bless her sweet friend, the few times Plum had managed to doze off, Sofia had shaken her awake with an urgent “Did you hear that?” or “What’s that?” Both times, there was no satisfactory answer. They’d spent the majority of the night straining to hear a stealthy footfall or to see better into the dimly lit ballroom.
“I don’t see anything,” Warix replied to Cici.
They all fell silent, not wanting to think about the boat not arriving.
“Dudes.” The word was sad.
“No, don’t say it,” Jude said. “It’s coming.” He puffed his cheeks out, holding the breath of hope in his lungs.
“Dude . . .”
“No, seriously. You just got to believe, right?” Jude didn’t look anyone in the eye. “Good things happen if you believe. Make room in your heart. It’s what I tell my fans. Believe and achieve.”
“Normally I would agree with you,” Shelley began gently.
Behind them, their suitcases sat forlornly on the tables where the day before a lavish buffet had been set out. A buffet with food, but no water.
It had been a sign. A warning.
And none of them had seen it, so eager to be somebody. To be a part of something amazing. Storied. Legendary.
Plum more than the rest of them. So foolish, so desperate.
Jude was still talking. “Like, if you believe good things, they come to you—the law of attraction, right?” His voice dipped into his webcam patter, the pop accent, the oh-my-God tone. “For example,” Jude said urgently, and he met Plum’s eyes. “If I think, Hey, that boat’s coming for me, then it’ll come. Or something will come! We won’t be trapped here!”
“I guess that’s maybe partly—” Plum began gently.
“And! If I think, I am not getting murdered on this island! then it’s going to be true, right?” Jude interrupted. His eyes moved to them each in turn, blue pools full of hope.
Sofia repositioned Henrietta on her hip. “I don’t think that’s quite how it works.”
Jude shook his head. He closed his eyes and tipped his face up to the sun, extending his arms fully like he was seeking a blessing from the sky. “I’m not getting murdered on this island,” he said with absolute certainty.
Warix laughed.
“Dudes,” Dude began again. “I think it’s time we faced it.”
“No one’s coming,” Shelley moaned. “The boat was a lie.”
“Nooooo.” Jude shook his head, his face still tipped up to the sky, his eyes still closed. “Don’t listen to them,” he pleaded to . . . the sun? God?
“Of course no boat’s coming,” Warix scoffed.
It was the last straw.
Under the blazing sun, with sweat stinging her eyes, fried on sleeplessness and fear, Plum whirled on the gamer. But Cici beat her to it, clomping her platform sandals up to where Warix sat on one of the empty tables.
“Oh yeah?” Cici snapped. “You know so much, how come you brought your suitcase down here?”
Warix shrugged. “Just in case I was wrong. It happens sometimes.”
Cici’s eyes narrowed. “You thought you were leaving, too. Drop the act.”
“Hey!” Jude yelped as he threw his arms wider. “I just remembered!” he yelled. “WE ARE GETTING RESCUED TODAY!”
“Dude, you’ve got to stop,” Dude said, his voice growing an edge. He dropped his head, the blond spikes of his hair lowering almost like horns.
“No! I mean it! Not a universe thing!” Jude pointed at Plum. “Peach Winter is coming! It has to be today! She’ll have a big charter boat or something, maybe one of those water planes, and she’ll come and we’ll be saved!”
Beside her, Plum heard Marlowe curse softly under her breath. Sofia stepped closer to Plum’s shoulder. Henrietta squawked slightly.
“Um, about that—” Plum began.
Everyone turned to her, their eyes weighted with hope.
“S-so,” Plum stammered.
Shelley began to shake her head. “Don’t say it.”
“It’s just that, um, she’s not coming,” Plum said.
Marlowe wrapped an arm around Plum, squeezing her tightly in support.
“What? Why not?” Jude asked. “You said so on the boat yesterday!”
“I lied,” Plum stated. She couldn’t stand the feeling of nausea in her stomach, the pinpricks of it in her cheeks. “My sister doesn’t even know about Pyre Festival,” Plum explained in a rush. “Because I took her invitation.”
There was a moment of shocked silence, one part growing anger, one part disappointment.
“Dude.”
The word held all the accusation and recrimination in the world.