All was lost. Iris knew she couldn’t leave Ambrose here on this island. Thus, she would be trapped here indefinitely with the man she loved, barred from speaking to him. Their orchard had burned to the ground. The apples were scorched and the trees blackened.
In the afternoon she forced herself to indulge in a few minutes of swimming, so sick was she of crying in her room. She had just waded into the warm water with the others, in her bathing gown, shuffling her feet so as to warn the stingrays, when she heard a splash behind her. Such an indelicate entry into the water could only come from a boy or a colt. She turned around. Wendell’s pants were soaked to the knees. His eyes were cold and his mouth was set.
“I will help you escape,” he said. “Both of you.”