Gina took a breath, then said, “I don’t care,” the words sounding like exhalations.

“You do care, Gina. You want me to stop.”

“I don’t, really. Alice, I think I need help.”

“Okay,” Alice said. She was starting to tire now, too, and began to swim in a crawl, her arms struggling to get out of the water, so she switched to the breaststroke. There was a definite pull in the water, a current tugging her away from the shore. Panic coursed through her, squeezing her chest, but she took a breath, and told herself to swim parallel to the shore for a while, till she was out of the current.

“Alice, help,” Gina shouted, and Alice turned to see her wave a hand above the water, her head submerging then coming up again. She was drowning, her words sputtering.

Alice felt a burst of strength and began to swim north, toward the lighthouse on the bluff, stopping occasionally until she no longer felt the pull of the current. Then she turned toward shore, her lungs burning, her arms as weak as jelly, and began to breaststroke home. After what felt like an eternity, the water began to swell again, and suddenly she was being pushed forward by a curling wave, her chest and thighs scraping the rock-strewn shore. She crawled forward and collapsed, her body shivering, her lungs pumping. When her breathing returned to normal, she stood, stumbling a little, then worked her way along the shore, making sure to walk near the waterline and not where the sand was dry. She didn’t want to leave footprints.

The moon came out again and she was able to find the two small piles of clothes, Gina’s and hers, up near the rocks. She pulled her pajama bottoms and T-shirt back on over her damp, sandy skin. She was now shaking uncontrollably, her teeth starting to chatter. A car went by on Micmac Road; she crouched under the sweep of its headlights, seeing Gina’s clothes briefly illuminated. The tide was now going out, but the sand was smooth and wet right up to where her sandals lay. There were no footprints visible.

Despite how cold she was, Alice crouched and watched the ocean for as long as she could, scanning its surface when the moon was out from under cloud cover. She knew that Gina had drowned—she must have gone under right after Alice had swum away from her—but still she watched, just to make sure. She tried to feel her way across the water, to sense Gina still struggling to stay alive, but there was nothing. The ocean had swallowed her.