A noncommittal noise is my only answer. He seemed happy to see me, at ease about this trip. But there’s also an undercurrent of something else that’s evident in the lingering silence hanging between us. I let it, leaning my head back against the leather seat and looking out at the city slowly waking up.

The drive to the ferry port takes ten minutes. Crowds and activity keep me awake, but as soon as the boat pulls away from the wharf, I start fighting with my eyelids. It’s a gorgeous day. If we were flying, there wouldn’t be a cloud in sight. The sky is an endless stretch of blue, just like the water we’re floating on. The bright sunshine and wind aren’t enough to keep me awake, though. I doze off against Gray’s shoulder almost immediately.

When I open my eyes again, they’re gritty with sleep. The large mass of land that is Port Royal Island hovers in the distance, growing larger and larger with each chug of the massive engine steering the ferry along.

Once we’re close to the shore, I raise my head from Gray’s shoulder. He looks over at me but doesn’t say anything.

“You gonna tell me why we’re here?” I ask quietly.

Gray turns his gaze back toward the water. “I promised I’d visit.”

“Promised who?”

He doesn’t say anything at first. “A few months ago, I lost a good friend. We were at the Academy together. Had some of the same assignments once we graduated. Would go on trips together when we had overlapping leave. And then he was…gone.” That final word hovers between us for a minute. “I didn’t just go back to Colorado to get promoted. There was a memorial service for Sam as well. His parents were there. They own a bed-and-breakfast here, on the island. When they heard I was spending my leave in Charleston, they asked that I come visit. I was worried I’d just be a…reminder, but they insisted. Sam was stubborn as hell too.” One corner of his mouth turns up at some fond recollection.

“I’m so sorry, Gray.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’m sorry too. I should have given you some more warning about what this is. A heads-up about what you’re walking into. A chance to back out. I…it’s still tough to talk about.”

“I would have come anyway.”

“I know.”

I hesitate. “Noah never mentioned…” My not-very-subtle attempt to ask him if he’s confided in anyone else.

“I didn’t tell him. I’ve kept them separate, you know. My life there and my life here.”

“How did Sam die?” I whisper.

Gray keeps his gaze forward as he answers, “His plane went down. Engine fire. They crashed…and there were no survivors.”