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“Fallen victim? You mean he died? He drowned?” It’s all too reminiscent of Danny. I can’t do this again. I can’t know that he died while trying to save me. I can’t live without him. Brutal sobs rip through me when the officer nods. “No!No!He can’t die. You have to look for him. Did you go to the island? Did you search everywhere? He can’t just be gone!” I fight against what he’s saying with every ounce of strength I have. I can’t breathe. My chest is too tight. There’s no oxygen left on this beach.
I can’t lose him.
I can’t lose him.
I can’t lose him.
“They’re still going to search the island. Of course. Right now, our priority has changed. A new team will head out for the island, but our primary team is searching the water for any sign of your husband.” I must give some indication that his words have given me hope because he quickly adds, “There’s very little chance we’ll find him at this stage. With tide changes and the depth we’re dealing with…” He stops himself, his kind eyes dancing between mine. He wants me to understand what he’s saying, but I don’t. I can’t. It’s impossible. “The boat’s completely trashed and there was no one on board, ma’am. I’m so sorry. As I said, we have a team searching the water now. They’ll do what they can, but…you should start preparing yourself for the worst. If there’s anyone you’d like to call, now would be the time. I’m sorry,” he repeats, already resigning Blake to a watery grave. “I wish I had better news.”
When he stands and walks away, I collapse in the sand. Florence falls with me, holding me, squeezing me as if I might fall apart if she doesn’t hold me tightly enough.
This can’t be happening. He can’t be gone.
He can’t.
I can’t lose him.
Not like this.
“We have to go.” I turn to face her, pulling out of her grasp. “We have to go now. We have to rent a boat. We have to find him.”
She’s quiet, watching me. She doesn’t immediately argue, but when I stand, she remains seated. “Go where, Mae? Where will we go?”
“Out there!” I wave my arms in the general direction of the ocean. “To the island. To wherever they found his boat.”
“Neither of us knows anything about driving a boat, nor do we know where the island is. Or his boat, for that matter.” She shakes her head softly. “He wouldn’t want this for you. He was out there to save you and he—”
“And look what that did to him! Look what I did to him, Flo!” I shout, angry at her, angry at myself, angry at Blake for ever getting on that stupid boat, for not just letting me go. He didn’t deserve this.
“You didn’t do this.” Now she’s on her feet. She grips both my shoulders. “Mae, look at me. This isn’t your fault. We don’t know anything yet. They could still find him.”
“So what, I’m just supposed to sit here? Do nothing? Call his parents and say they should come in case…” I choke on my words, unable to finish the sentence. “I can’t lose him, Flo. I can’t. I won’t survive it.”
“I know,” she whispers, her eyes tired.
“I could call Danny,” I tell her, searching for an answer as if it’s water in a barren desert. “I could call my dad and make him give me Danny’s number. Danny’s crew could search for him.”
“Does your dad have Danny’s number? He doesn’t know he’s alive.”
“He would have a way to contact someone,” I insist.
“But would he give it to you? The police told you not to contact him. That we’re supposed to let him arrive here thinking you’re still missing.”
“I don’t care what the police said! I just want my husband back!” I shout.
“I know.” She squeezes my shoulders, her voice gentle. She’s like a parent trying to convince me to take my medicine. A kindergarten teacher trying to coax me into her classroom on the first day of school. “I know you do. But…would he even give it to you? If he knows you’re alive and you’re asking for a way to contact the traffickers, even if you don’t tell him it’s Danny, would he have any reason to help you? All you’d be doing is tipping him off and putting more people at risk.”
“I don’t care about anyone else,” I sob. “I just want him.” With that, I collapse into her arms finally, and she wraps me up, rubbing my back with both hands as if I haven’t just said the most cruel, selfish thing I could say.
“It’s going to be okay,” she promises. “We aren’t giving up.”
Even as she says it, I can sense the defeat in her tone. She’s giving up on him.
I can’t give up on him.
I can’t do any of this without him. I don’t want to.
“He can’t be gone,” I whisper. My throat is tight, my skin too hot. I can’t think. My body feels like it might explode with grief. Perhaps it would be better that way. Better to have physical pain than this.
