“Protection from what? Solano’s nephew? Because he’s the only other person we had any reason to believe might have been here—unless you knew something we didn’t?”

“Fuck off, Jack Goff. You’re pissing me off more than usual.”

Jack said to Pita, “Did you know he carried a gun around?”

Pita seemed stunned. She shook her head.

“I didn’t know either,” Jesus said, frowning.

Nitro scowled. “What’s the big deal?”

“What are you, a fucking gangster?” Jack said.

“I bought it legally.”

Pita said, “I thought you could only have a gun for home protection?”

“That’s what it’s for,” Nitro told her.

“So you don’t have a permit to carry?” Jesus asked.

“A permit? Fuck, no.”

“Bro, if you’re caught with that gun, you’re looking at up to thirty years in prison.”

“There might be a fucking killer on this island! You should all be happy I have a gun—”

“Okay, okay,” Elizaveta said. “Calm down. Maybe it’s a good thing he has—”

“It’s fucking weird,” Jack said.

“Don’t ask me to save your ass when you’re getting your eyes ripped out—”

“Enough!” Elizaveta said. “Let’s just…” Her gaze fell on a table behind Jesus and Pita. “Look, candles.”

She went to the table, took her lighter from her pocket, and lit two red candles set in glass jars. The scent of burning wax fumes and the sight of the tiny flames buoyed her tremendously. The dark became a little less threatening.

“Light!” Pita said. “Thank God.”

“There’re more candles over there,” Jesus said, pointing to what appeared to be a big pirate chest. “And there…”

Elizaveta went around the room, lighting six candles in total. The candlepower was modest, but at least they could now see each other clearly.

While she did this, Nitro collected Lucinda from outside and carried her to one of the two bedrooms.

“I don’t trust that guy,” Jack said under his breath to nobody in particular.

“Cool it, Jack,” Jesus said.

Pepper cleared his throat. “Would anyone object if I lay down in the spare bed?” He stood a few feet away from everyone, his arms folded across his chest, huddled into himself. His cherub face drooped miserably. He appeared ten years older.

“Shit, Peps,” Jack said, frowning. “You look… What’s wrong?”

“Just tired. I know it’s not fair I take the bed, but just for a bit…”

“Come on,” Jack said, leading Pepper toward the vacant bedroom. Rosa followed dutifully.

Knowing they would need water at some point, Elizaveta went to an old enamelware bucket bristling with paintbrushes in one corner. She dumped the brushes onto the floor and looked inside it. Clean enough. She went to the door.

“What are you doing?” Pita asked, alarmed.

“Getting water. I’m not going far.”