“That’s a nice sentiment,” I say softly, “but that last word shows your doubt. And the thing is that just the fear of becoming like my father has been enough to influence my personality. I’m hyper-aware of my own morality.”

“True psychopaths don’t worry about being evil.”

“Maybe. But I know I have certain traits, and they make me uncomfortable. Like a lack of emotional response when things get heated, and an ability to compartmentalize my emotions.”

“When a child is afraid of anger, they’ll suppress their own,” he says. “It’s a coping mechanism that stems from childhood trauma.”

I meet his eyes. “I agree. But the thing is, I’ll always have this hanging over me. And you deserve better.”

“Bullshit.” He’s openly angry now, although he’s obviously doing his best to rein it in. “You’re a wonderful woman, warm, loving, and generous. You’re not remotely like your father. And I get to make my own decisions about what and who I deserve, not you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hallie

At that moment, Fraser’s phone buzzes on the counter. He pauses and glances at it, frowns, then blows out a breath. “It’s one of Joel’s colleagues. I’d better answer it.” He holds up a finger. “Don’t move.”

I sit there, heart pounding, as he answers the call. I fight the urge to run and get dressed, then sneak out while he’s talking. That would be cowardly. We do need to talk about this.

“Hey, Manu, what’s up?” He studies the worktop as he listens, scratching at a mark on it. Then, all of a sudden, he sits bolt upright, barking questions and frowning as he listens to the answers. “What? When? Fucking hell. There’s no sign of them at all? Is there any land nearby? What’s the island like? How far is it from the rocks? Do you… do you think…” He swallows hard. “Okay. Yes, of course. I’ll fly up and join you. Yep, I have them as emergency contacts through the museum. And yeah, I’ll have to ring Mum and Dad before I leave.” He checks the time. “I’ll probably be able to get a plane around nine thirty, something like that? Yeah. Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “See you then. Thanks for calling me. Yeah, let’s hope.” He ends the call.

I get to my feet, facing him across the counter. “What’s happened?”

“Joel and Zoe are missing.”

I inhale sharply. “What?”

“Apparently they took the boat out yesterday, just the two of them. A storm blew up and swept across the islands. The Coastguard found the boat drifting by the Black Rocks, not far from the excavation site, about thirty minutes ago. There’s no sign of them.” He’s gone completely white.

“Oh Fraser, I’m so sorry.” I cover my mouth, shocked.

“I have to ring my parents and Zoe’s parents,” he says. He looks down at himself, as if only realizing then that he’s not dressed. “And I need to get ready. Then I’m going to fly up to the Bay of Islands and join the search and rescue party.”

“Okay.”

He hesitates. “The museum… I have meetings…”

“Don’t worry about work,” I say immediately. “I’ll go in and see Louise and explain everything. We’ll sort it out. You need to concentrate on your family.”

His brows draw together, and he runs a hand through his hair. “We need to finish our discussion…”

“There’s plenty of time for that, sweetheart. Why don’t you ring your parents while I quickly get dressed?”

He nods. He looks so upset that I walk around the breakfast bar and lift my arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper as he hugs me tightly. “I hope they’re found safe and sound. They’re both resourceful. Joel’s broken all those records for freediving, so he’s the perfect person to survive in a situation like this. And Zoe’s a strong swimmer.” I swallow hard. It’s true, but she’s nowhere near as capable as Joel. And even he would struggle if he was thrown overboard in the middle of the ocean.

But we can’t think like that. We have to believe they’ve survived, because I don’t think I’ll be able to cope otherwise.

I move back and kiss him, and then he kisses me back, long and hard. Then he releases me and says, “Okay, I’ll ring my folks.”

I leave him to it, return to the bedroom, and go into his en suite bathroom. I stare at the toilet for a moment, fighting the urge to vomit, but eventually I conquer it, and I turn to the mirror. I’ll go back to my apartment and take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes. For now, I have an elastic band around my wrist, and I wrestle my hair into a ponytail. I splash some cold water on my face, trying not to think about Joel and Zoebeing tossed about by the cold ocean waves. Then I go out and get dressed, my hands shaking anyway, because it’s impossible not to fear the worst.

By the time I go back out, Fraser is wrapping up his conversation with his parents. He’s standing by the window, speaking softly, trying to console them with the same words and phrases that I said, reminding them confidently that Joel is an accomplished diver who can hold his breath for nine minutes. It’s true because he holds the national record, but of course that’s under strictly supervised conditions, and it didn’t take place in a raging sea in the middle of a storm.

And not only that, but I know Joel well enough to believe that he would have been doing everything he could to get Zoe to safety. He would never have abandoned her to save himself. Either they’ve both survived, or neither of them have.

My eyes fill with tears.

Fraser repeatedly reassures his parents, then says he has to go and call Zoe’s folks, and that he’ll get back to them the moment he has any news. He ends the call, then stares out at the view, although I doubt he’s actually seeing the bright day. His head is up in the Bay of Islands, with his brother.