One of the Saint Helenians took the seat beside Kane when they boarded. He was an elegant-looking man with touches of gray in his hair, a gold tooth, and a gold watch. As they took off, he kept wistful eyes on the view.

“Heading to or from home?” Kane said. The man turned.

“That’s a good question, my friend.”

He had been visiting his girlfriend in Cape Town, he said. She worked at a hotel, and they were debating where things were going. He had three kids on Saint Helena, one in the States.

“I’ve heard a lot about the island, the warmth of the people,” Kane said.

“Oh, we’re warm.” He laughed. “You’re from the UK?”

“That’s right.”

“Good old UK. I wouldn’t be here without you. My grandfather was a descendant of one of the Boer prisoners of war. You guys took them to the island,” he said. “That was 1901. And British people never seem to know anything about it. Know about the Boer War?”

“Not as much as I should.”

“The British took over twenty thousand prisoners, and then didn’t know what to do with them. The prisoner of war camps in South Africa were bursting. So they decided to ship prisoners to Bermuda, India, Sri Lanka, Saint Helena. You name it. The locals treated us well. Better than the British. So one way or another we ended up sticking around. Where are you staying on Saint Helena?” he asked.

“I’m not. I have to get the flight to Ascension.”

The man stared at him.

“What do you want to go there for?”

“Research. I work on British colonial history.”

“Stay on Saint Helena. We’re colonial. We’ve got people and restaurants, too. Might be a speck in the Atlantic, but at least we’re more than just a volcano.”

Something evidently troubled him about the prospect of Kane flying onward.

“Have you been to Ascension?” Kane asked.

“Not me. A lot of us go over to work. Saints go over there, think it’s a privilege, an honor to be selected, and you never see them again.”

“Literally?”

“Almost. There used to be a boat service, RMS Saint Helena. Now it’s monthly flights, and they only run those because they have to. It’s in the contracts. That’s a strange island.”

Kane took the comment as an invitation.

“I heard a girl went missing recently.”

The man assessed him again before nodding slowly.

“I know the family. They’re back on Saint Helena now, hearts broken.”

“They went back?”

“What could they do? Searched for ten days, eleven days. They’ve got no other friends or family there—all their family’s on Saint Helena. The island’s been searched top to bottom.”

“What do they think happened?”

“They have no idea. The girl loved to swim. There’s sharks. No one knows.”