Page 14 of Saltwater

“No. Freddy and I stayed at the club. We got home around fivea.m.She was already gone when we left.”

“Maybe she met up with the girls,” Freddy says. When I look at him, he adds: “The girls who were with Stan. I forget their names.”

My uncle pulls out his phone and scrolls to her contact. I can hear the muffle of it going straight to voicemail.

“Ran out of juice, probably,” my father says.

They have, I realize, an excuse for everything. A tidy reason not to worry.Theywill take care of it. But I can see already how the worry might grow, how it might become an overgrown vine that breaks apart the wall we’ve built between our family and the public. Even if they can’t.

The housekeeper arrives with a cappuccino, a carafe of coffee, and a basket ofsfogliatellethat are burned brown at the tips. I’m desperate for something to soak up the leftover booze.

“We’ve only been home for six hours,” Freddy says. “Give her some time. So what if she misses breakfast?”

He rubs my shoulder, and I force myself to squeeze his leg, to smile. Freddy, who doesn’t know anything. Who doesn’t know what Lorna did after she left the club last night. Who doesn’t know why I become edgy and distant every time we arrive on this island.

They wish I were like Freddy, I think. It’s why he’s still around.

I finish my cappuccino and reach for the fresh pot of coffee to refill my cup. Below us, boats move around the Marina Piccola, and it strikes me that we’re supposed to be on one of them shortly. I swallow another bite of breakfast.

“Maybe we should just stay at the pool today,” I say, wrapping my fingers around Freddy’s forearm. Squeezing. “Just in case she comes back.”

Say yes.

“Oh no,” he says. “I need to get out on the water after last night. Don’t you?”

No.

But I smile, let him wipe away a pastry flake. I owe him this.

“I’ll text you,” my father says, “when she gets back.”

I hear the shudder in his voice. He isn’t sure either. None of us are.

Lorna

Hours before Lorna’s disappearance:29

We go to Da Paolinofor dinner. The lemon boughs are thick on the trellises, looming over the tables. I suspect the lemons are fake until I reach up and touch one—its skin is soft and fragrant. It’s the first time I’ve smelled something other than fig or pine since we arrived on the island. There are white lanterns and yellow tablecloths and I even consider enjoying it—this island, this life—then I remember none of it is mine.

Before we left the villa, Marcus and Richard closed themselves in the library to discuss how they might handle Helen’s unfortunategift.Richard confirmed its authenticity, flipping the necklace over, finding the hallmarks, growing pale as soon as he saw them. Marcus made a handful of calls. Through the closed door came urgent, muffled words. The envelope left on the sideboard, limp, soaked through by splashes of wine.

I know their concern will be eased by the extensive Lingate resources. Resources that can resolve this temporary diversion, the same way they have everything else related to Sarah’s death.

Money. The great fixer.

Helen refused to give up the necklace when they insisted.The package wasn’t addressed to you,she pointed out. It was a nice flourish, a way to keep the thing front and center, a reminder. I admire the move. She improvises well, better than most rich people I know. But then, Helen isn’t rich.Theyare. That’s the whole problem.

—

I met Helen fora hike at Runyon Canyon because it was one of the few places they allowed her to go. The fog was still thick against the hillside when she arrived, pulling a black, nondescript ball cap down on her head and looping her hair through the back. She started walking without me. I had to jog to catch up.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said.

Helen always seemed to be apologizing. To the point where it felt like a reflex.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said. “I can wait ten minutes.”

We had been meeting like this every week. Helen, it turned out, had no other friends. She only had Freddy. A setup by Naomi. And even he seemed like a plant, like an extension of her family. Knowing Freddy, he probably was.

---