Page 95 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

“Like a fungus.”

I touch the tip of my nose with my right index finger and point the other at Harper. “Ding, ding, ding.”

She laughs, and it feels like the ice is breaking between us.

“For the record,” she says, “I’m not trying to kill you.”

“I know, baby girl.”

“You haven’t called me that since we were kids.”

Since before our parents died, she means, and maybe she’s right. We tucked so many things about them away because it was easier, but maybe that was a mistake.

When your life is on the line, you start to question everything.

“Remember how you used to call me El-nor, like I was an elf in Lord of the Rings?”

“Your ears did stick out.”

“It is time to get on the boat! Andiamo!”

Harper rolls her eyes. “She wants us to get on the boat.”

“We better get on, then,” I say.

Her smile turns into a frown. “Do you think it’s safe?”

The sky above us is clear and cloudless. “The weather looks good.”

“No, I meant for you. What if… What if someone tries something on the boat?”

“In front of all these witnesses?”

“There were plenty of witnesses last night.”

“No,” I say, “there weren’t.”

She bites her lip. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

“And maybe…”

“Don’t drink?”

“I didn’t say it.”

“I can feel your thoughts.”

“Ooh, do they hurt?”

“They won’t kill me.”

Harper shakes her head slowly.

“Don’t worry. I’m taking this seriously.”

And I am. Deadly seriously.

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