“Achy all over and nauseated.” She didn’t mention the unreasonably sore muscles or the reason for them, even though her mother would probably be delighted to hear that Jenny had found someone special to spend time with.

“That doesn’t sound good. Is it still hot?”

“Crazy hot.”

“I wish I was there to take your temperature and bring you ginger ale the way I used to.”

“I wish you were, too.” Jenny missed her family in North Carolina, but the opportunity to go somewhere new, where no one knew what’d happened to her, had been greatly appealing when she’d read about the Gansett Island lighthouse-keeper job in the newspaper. “What’s going on there?”

Her mom regaled her with news about her sisters and their families, including a funny story about her nephew Tyler being scolded at preschool for kicking his friends with his new boots. “Needless to say, Emma took the boots away from him until he can play nice with his friends,” her mom said of the younger of Jenny’s two sisters.

“Poor Tyler. He loves those boots.”

“I know, but as Emma said, who knew they came with attitude?”

Jenny smiled as she pictured her pintsize nephew with hair so blond it was nearly white. She and Toby had planned to eventually move back to North Carolina after they got their careers off the ground. They’d also hoped to wait a few years to start a family, so their children should’ve been growing up alongside her nieces and nephews.

The sheer unfairness of what had happened to him—and to her—was never far from her mind, especially when she was around her sisters and their families.

“Are you and Dad still hoping to come visit?”

“We’d love to. He’s trying to figure out a few things at work, and then I’ll email you some dates.”

“Sounds good.”

“Let me know how you’re feeling, okay?”

“I will. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Love you, honey.”

“Love you, too.”

Jenny put down the phone and toyed with the idea of getting up and trying to eat something, but her stomach turned from the idea alone, so she stayed put, dozing intermittently until Syd called later that afternoon.

“Were you sleeping?” Sydney asked.

“I hate to admit that I was. Not feeling too hot. Well, that’s not true. I feel like I’m going to implode I’m so hot, but I might have a fever on top of this miserable heat wave.”

“Ugh, that doesn’t sound like fun.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. I just feel like shit. But how are you? It was good to see you out last night.”

“It was good to be out. I’m sick of looking at my own four walls.”

“You’re feeling better?”

“Still a little tired and sore, but much better than I was.”