I try again, brushing off his non-conversational answer as the effects of the early morning.
“Where did you look?”
“We were out in the dunes,” he says, short and clipped.
My teeth worry my lower lip. I don’t think he’s upset with me. I had done nothing between now and falling asleep last night after his teasing, so it must just be from a severe lack of sleep.
Or he regrets saying we are friends.
I try again. “Did you see anyone?”
He glances down at me before looking back at the tunnel ahead. “I didn’t see your boyfriend.”
I can understand that he would think I was asking about Dane, but honestly, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I don’t know how many Voyagers Dane has allowed out after dark now that he and Storm were patrolling, and my question was out of pure curiosity, not out of seeking any morsel of Dane that I could.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“That’s what you meant, though.” His gaze is unmoving, but his jaw tightens slightly.
I roll my eyes, knowing he won’t see it, and shut my mouth. If he doesn’t want to talk, then I won’t talk. We can spend the rest of the day in silence wherever we are going.
The tunnel ahead splits, and we veer to the left, opposite of the direction I have gone with the girls on our shifts. After a few more minutes in silence, Weston takes an abrupt turn into a short tunnel that looks to end just ahead. As we get closer to thepacked dirt wall, I spot the way out. Handholds carved into the wall lead up into a circular passageway with no light at the end.
Weston steps to the side and motions toward the wall.
“After you, princess.”
I start to climb, too aware of Weston following right behind me, until I reach the top of the tunnel. The roof overhead is wooden, so I press my hand to the boards and they move, flipping up and opening a trapdoor. The boards clatter on the other side as I climb through and look at the structure around me.
A wooden, circular space surrounds the trapdoor, with large windows open to the surrounding island. Hooking my knee over the lip of the opening, I pull my body up and crawl across the floor, leaving enough space for Weston to follow. I grip the half wall railing and pull myself up, looking around for the first time.
The balcony railing runs along the entire structure, and light pours in through the open sides. We’re surrounded by tropical trees, but hidden from the beating suns by a wooden roof that looks to have the seams of another trapdoor.
I spin slowly, taking in this new spot on the island I never knew existed, just as Weston lifts himself through the opening. The already comfortable space feels even smaller with both of us occupying it, his hulking frame taking up much of the open space with the hole in the middle of the floor. He rectifies that quickly, bending down to flip the boards back into place so there’s now a little more room to walk. I clear my throat and turn toward the railing, peering through the thick trees to determine where on the island we are.
We’re inside a lookout, like the stone turrets at the edges of my castle, somewhere high in the trees. The loud crash of water booms around us, and I circle around the railing until I see it. From here, there is a perfect view of the waterfall and the lagoon below, but we’re positioned out of the way just enough that I cansee down the path on both sides of the bridge and watch anyone coming toward it.
They surveil the entrance.
I spin to face Weston, my jaw slack as my mind reels. He’s leaning against the railing opposite me, arms crossed over his chest, watching me piece things together.
“This is how you take the Voyagers? You watch to see who goes in?”
He nods.
All this time, the Voyagers have feared being outside of camp at night, assuming the Castaways never were on the island during the day, but in reality, they were. Someone sits here, day after day, watching them walk past the one thing they came here for.
“So it’s not just nighttime shifts. Someone sits here all day and waits?”
“Yes.”
“You dragged me out of bed before dawn but won’t speak. Are you ever going to say anything more than a few words at a time?” I say, not bothering to hide my annoyance any longer.
The corner of his lips tip up. “We’ll see.”
“Ugh, you’re infuriating,” I groan, rolling my eyes and angling back toward the waterfall.
He chuckles. “Sig tells me that all the time.”
