I turn on my phone in the last ten minutes of our drive, expecting Hugh to have messaged me. He hasn’t. I feel rejected and disappointed and hurt. I try to ignore my own feelings, but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that he didn’t text me to ask about Millie, or if I got home safe. How could I have interpreted his feelings so incorrectly? Why did I believe he really cared about me? I want to throw my phone out the window.

I stare at my phone, relief that Millie is OK giving way to anger. The one thing I really wanted to bring for my sister, the proof she’s been searching for, the reason she sent me on this trip to begin with, Hugh took away from me. Feeling angry with him is better than giving in to the wave of sadness threatening to overwhelm me, so I lean into it, glowering out the window. I don’t want to keep thinking: What if? What if I was honest? What if I didn’t ask Hugh to sign that stupid dive log? Would he still like me? Would I still feel like we had something I’ve never felt before with anyone?

My mom hates silence, so she breaks it after about two minutes. ‘I haven’t even asked you about the trip. I’m sorry everything has been so hectic at home. And you had to come home early—’ She breaks off mid-sentence, glancing over at me with wide eyes.

‘Mom, it’s fine,’ I reassure her. ‘I didn’t have anything to stick around for anyway.’

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, which is not her usual MO, and I know she can hear the underlying sadness in my answer.

‘Did something happen?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘You didn’t find the fish?’

As soon as she asks, it hits me that no one has asked until now. Not her, not my dad, not Millie, which must mean that Millie was really sick, otherwise she would be texting me herself or begging them to do it.

‘I did actually,’ I say, ‘but I don’t have any proof, so it doesn’t count.’

My mom claps her hands together. ‘Millie will be so happy! This is just the news she needs.’

‘But, Mom,’ I say, my voice bordering on a whine, ‘she won’t be happy. I didn’t get any proof, my sightings are worthless.’

‘Surely someone else saw it too?’ she asks brightly.

I know she’s hoping desperately for something to lift Millie’s spirits, but her question feels like a dagger to my heart. I force myself to shake my head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I mumble.