Someone, she thought it was Revvy, started singing a song by the Doors and everyone joined in. By the last verse she’d lifted her voice with the rest of them to the wild rising moon, to the endangered species, to the decaying home at the center of the island and to the ghosts of all time past. While singing, she stashed away everything Nick had told her; she would stare at it when she was alone. There wasn’t a safe way to ponder the newfound information while sitting on the beach with Nick in the firelight.

Reese put out the fire and they loaded up the boat to return home. The tide had risen and the slapping waves reached to Amy’s waist. The others laughed and splashed and climbed into the boat. She slithered onto the back, knowing she looked every year her age—teacher, housewife, middle-aged woman. But they laughed and gave her high fives, and she rode home on the incoming tide with the hope that one of them might have enough information to save the small island from a tacky home, inground pool and putting green.

Amy dreaded the drive back alone in Nick’s warm pickup truck, and felt saved by Reese’s request for a ride. Although it was out of the way, Nick dropped him off at a beachside shanty that looked like it was about ready to return to the sea.

“Reese.” Amy grabbed his hand as he jumped out of the truck. “Thank you so much.”

“I believe y’all are gonna save it. I really do. You’ve got the big guns now.” Reese nodded to Nick.

“Yes, we do.” Amy laughed and crawled out of the backseat, slipped into the front. As soon as they left the gravel drive, Nick grabbed her hand. She pulled away.

“Don’t do that.”

“Can’t help it, darlin’.”

“Thank you for coming tonight. I think everyone is thrilled to have you and . . .” She was running out of things to say.

Nick pulled up in front of the dorm, then walked around and opened her door. It was late; she was suddenly exhausted.

“Wow, I’m wiped,” she said.

He grabbed her hand and helped her out of the truck, leading her not to the front door of the dorm, but around to the side of the building. He eased her up against the wall where the garden lamp’s light did not reach. The suffused silver of the moon’s glow scattered on the ground. He placed both hands on her shoulders; his right hand slipped, landed on the crumbled mortar of the ancient building.

“Can you leave with me for just a little while?”

“No, I can’t,” she thought she said.

He leaned in to close the gap between them. His mouth found her neck, and he kissed it, down, down until he found the small crest between her collarbones. Her body softened, became giving and malleable.