“He doesn’t cheat. He’d never.”
Kalani exhaled beside me, a soft sound. “I trust my husband,” she retorted. And maybe it was the wine, or maybe I was just tired, but for a second, I forgot she meantAran. Her fake husband. Because we didn’t have husbands. Or cabins down south. We didn’t even havehomes.
Ilaria snorted and refilled her glass herself. She didn’t even wait for the server.
“It’s full of whores, that place. Men go there for nothing but vile things.”
My grip tightened around my glass. I didn’t let myself flinch, didn’t let them see. But inside, it felt like a knife, twisting.
Whores. That’s what they thought girls like Licia were. Girls like Kalani.
If only they knew. If they understood what had been done to them, what had been taken.
But they didn’t. They never would. To them, those girls were nothing more than background noise in their husbands’ affairs. Just flesh, to be bought and forgotten. Not daughters. Not friends. Not survivors.
Ilaria just sneered, drained her glass, and poured herself another.
“Foolish girls,” she muttered.
It fucking hurt. I think we both felt it, because Kalani and I got drunk that night.
Stupid drunk.
The kind that hits fast, where the edges of the world blur and everything feels euphoric. Blissful. The kind that makes your cheeks burn and your legs go weak and your mouth say things it shouldn’t.
We left the restaurant giggling, shoes in hand, stumbling barefoot down the beach toward our hotel. The place we’d been living the past couple of days. It was a wonder we found our way, remembered where it was, as the sea stretched out beside us, black and endless. Our skirts clung to our legs from the breeze, and the sand was cold and wet beneath our feet.
“Ow—ow—fucking rocks.” Kalani whined, clutching my arm and limping dramatically as she tried to avoid stepping on sharp stones.
“It’s a beach,” I laughed. “There’s gonna be rocks.”
“It’s so beautiful,” Kalani said, changing the topic entirely. I followed her gaze, to the waves that moved like they were breathing.
“Do you think I could, like, breathe underwater?” she asked. “Like a fish, or a mermaid. Or would I just… disappear?”
My brows drew together. “What?”
“I would be nice, don’t you think? Living beneath the waves,” she said, stepping toward the shoreline. The water lapped at her toes.
“Hey.” I caught her wrist, gentle but firm. “That’s stupid. You’re not a mermaid.”
She smiled, but it was soft and faraway, like she hadn’t heard me at all. Her gaze stayed fixed on the sea, then her eyes turned glassy.
“Do you think they’ll find Licia?”
My chest pulled tight. The wind suddenly felt colder.
“I hope so,” I said.
“I don’t,” she breathed. She didn’t look at me. Just stared out at the dark water, her hair blowing across her face. Then, suddenly, she blinked, like waking from a dream and turned, eyes wide.
“Oh my gods. Kera. Look. It’s a cat.”
“What?”
She took off running down the beach after a little shadow darting between the rocks.
“WAIT!” she yelled, her arms flailing. I stood there for a second, stunned, then burst out laughing.
