Yes, she was. She wasn’t going to leave Izzy by herself, when she was desperate and upset. And yes, she knew she was probably going to be yelled at. Izzy would probably accuse her of all kinds of things and she wouldn’t be able to beat a hasty retreat because there would be water between herself and freedom, but she was doing it anyway.

She stepped gingerly into the boat, felt it wobble and plopped down hard on the seat.

“Ooh—” She clutched the sides. Breathe, breathe. These things were designed to float. Why would it sink? If it was going to sink, it would have sunk already when it was tied to the dock.

Gingerly, confining herself to small movements, she retrieved the paddle from the floor and gripped it tightly. Eyes straight ahead. Don’t look down. Don’t wonder how deep it is.

The island wasn’t that far. All she had to do was row steadily and not make any big movements.

She pushed the boat away from the dock and wasted several minutes moving aimlessly in no particular direction while she figured out how to paddle and steer. Finally she was away, making slow progress. It was unsettling how close she was to the water. If she’d been given the choice of vessel she would have picked a cruise ship, or at least a large yacht.

The farther she traveled from the dock, the more vulnerable she felt. She glanced down and then wished she hadn’t as panic gripped her by the throat. The water below her was deep and dark. She tried not to think about her mother, and how she’d been in deep water when she’d drowned. Too far out of her depth to save herself.

The sky had darkened and a few spots of rain hit her shoulders. Clare had warned her that the weather was changeable and she’d been here long enough to have witnessed it herself, but she wished it hadn’t chosen this moment to change from sunshine to storm.

The surface of the lake grew rougher and the water slapped hard against the sides of the boat, testing her nerve.

If she was still alive at the end of this, she was going to kill Jack.

“It’s fine, it’s all fine, it’s going to be fine.” She talked to herself, soothed herself, kept her eyes fixed on the island.

It didn’t seem to be getting any closer, but she hoped that was her imagination.

She kept paddling, wondering if she was doing something wrong. Was she going backward? No, the boathouse was far behind her now, which gave her hope but also a sense of panic. There was no turning back. No changing her mind and now she knew she couldn’t, she badly wanted to. What was she doing? She couldn’t swim, had never rowed a boat and Izzy didn’t even like her.