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“Why did you steal planes? Cars?”

Jordan lowered her eyes. “It was something my best friend dared me to do. We were in it together.”

Emily scoffed. “Your best friend made you steal a plane?”

“It was that girl Mackenzie I started talking about. She dared me to steal bigger things, do more dangerous stuff, basically because she loved the power over me. She promised she’d love me back if I did, but it didn’t work that way.”

Emily curled her toes. The story was awfully familiar—Ali had treated her like that, too.

“Mackenzie was the one who turned me in, actually,” Jordan went on. “I told her I didn’t want to steal things anymore, that it was getting too crazy. So she called the cops on me.”

Emily gasped. “Did she get in trouble?”

Jordan shook her head. “Nope.”

“Why not? Didn’t she steal stuff, too?”

Jordan’s lips twitched. “I didn’t tell the cops that.” She peeked at Emily sheepishly. “Really lame, right?”

Emily stared at the big number 6 painted on the wall next to the stairs. She’d covered for Ali, too. Hell, she’d even let her out of the Poconos house. “It’s not lame. But your relationship with your friend isn’t love. It’s not even friendship.”

“I know,” Jordan said quietly. “But once I realized it, it was too late. Only now do I really know what love is.”

Emily looked up; the air felt electrically charged. Jordan was looking so deeply into Emily’s eyes that Emily felt a magnetic pull toward her. She thought about how Jordan had held her close on the glass-bottomed boat, accepting everything about her. And how she’d kissed Emily out in the open at the elevators. And how they could talk about anything, and how much they laughed, and how right kissing her felt.

She walked slowly back down the stairs until she was by Jordan’s side. When she slipped her hand into Jordan’s, it felt as though she’d come home. But then terror struck her. “What if someone else knows where you are?” She thought of A’s note. Cute! You can room together in jail!

Jordan’s mouth made a line. “What do you mean?”

Emily swallowed hard. “What if someone recognizes you from the news … and tells?”

“I’ve kept a really low profile,” Jordan insisted. “I don’t think anyone on this ship is on the lookout for me, anyway. You shouldn’t worry.”

“But …” Emily trailed off, thinking of all the things A could do with the information. “What are you going to do when this cruise ends and we’re back on land? They’re going to catch you—you can’t run forever. What will happen to us? Will I ever see you again?”

Jordan pulled her close and rocked her back and forth. “Hey,” she said soothingly, rubbing a figure-eight pattern on Emily’s back. “Don’t worry.”

“But I have to worry!” Emily cried. “You need a plan! You need to figure out a way to stay safe!”

Jordan smiled placidly. “Em, I do have a plan.”

Emily blinked. “What is it?”

Slowly, Jordan led her out of the stairwell, past the busy arcade, and into one of the lounges, which had big velvet booths and long aquariums lining the walls. Other than Jeremy, who was leaning against the bar, talking to one of the bartenders, they were the only people in the room.

They sat down in a back booth near a glowing ATM machine. The second hand of the art deco clock on the wall made a full rotation before Jordan spoke again. “I’m never going back to the States,” she began. “You’re right—I’ll be arrested as soon as I set foot there. As long as I stay in another country, though, I’ll be safe. So when we dock in Bermuda, I’m getting on a plane. I was going to do it at our first stop in St. Martin, but then I met you, and I just … couldn’t.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Where are you going?”

“Thailand. I have it all worked out. There’s a fake passport waiting for me in Bermuda, along with a plane ticket.”

Emily pictured a mental map of the world, trying to gauge the distance between Rosewood and Thailand. It felt like Jordan was going to the moon. “What are you going to do there?”

“Live an amazing life.” Jordan said wistfully, twisting a cloth napkin that had been set on the table in her hands. “It’s incredible there, Em—beautiful beaches, an amazing culture, and you can live like a king on nothing. I was thinking of teaching English to make money. And I want you to come with me.”

Emily sat back in the plushy booth. “What?”

“Think about it!” Jordan grabbed Emily’s hands across the table, almost knocking over a glass of water. “We’d live on the beach. You’d get to swim in the ocean every day. We could travel, have amazing adventures, and you’d get to escape everything here that you hate.”

A kid Emily didn’t recognize passed by them to use the ATM, and Emily pressed her lips together until he finished. Then she looked at Jordan plaintively. “But what if I wanted to see my family? Wouldn’t a plane ticket be really expensive?”

“You couldn’t see your family ever again. The authorities might figure out we escaped together—you’d be considered an accessory for hiding me. If you came back to the States, you could be arrested, too.”

The words hit Emily like a punch to the stomach. Never see her family again? Never live in America again?

Then again, what did she have in the States that she really treasured? A family who hated her? A college future she wasn’t even excited about? Good friends, yes, but they’d probably jump at the chance to get out of town, too. And there was Violet, of course, but the Bakers were the best parents she could ask for.

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