That was something that needed a reply, wasn’t it? The thing was, Thea couldn’t even begin to think what her response to that should be. She had spent much of her sleep-deprived life a dead tree, hollowed out and brittle, the nothingness at her heart grown around by fragile, flaky layers. But she had seen pictures of fires inside those hollowed-out trees, a deep, burning orange.

It could happen.

‘The beach.’ Rory put an arm out to stop her. She’d been so engrossed in her own thoughts she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings. They hid behind one of the last trees before the copse gave way to the shore.

There were people milling about on the beach, wrapped up in padded coats and thick boots that made Thea’s feet throb with jealousy. A small boat, no bigger than the one that had brought Thea to the island all those weeks ago, was moored nearby.

‘But, I don’t think everyone is here yet. We can’t leave!’

That was a voice she recognized. She peered around the tree at Harriet only a few metres away from her, tucked up in a coat that was more like a duvet and gesticulating at a man with his back to them, dressed in black outdoor gear with a crackling walkie-talkie clipped to his belt.

‘Ma’am. We have orders. We only have a few people left to evacuate and we’d like to do it while we’ve got the weather with us.’

‘But, the explosions! We all heard them—’

‘Controlled explosions. The building is unsafe. Everyone will be accounted for and, anyway, that is not your concern—’

‘But …’ Harriet sighed and looked around her, as if searching for help in her argument, shifting her weight from foot to foot, undecidedly.

Instead of seeing help, however, what she saw in its place was Thea.

Chapter 60

The world did not freeze whilst the two women stared at each other because that is not what worlds do.

Harriet didn’t gasp, or point; she didn’t even raise her eyebrows. Thea held herself very still, fixed by Harriet’s gaze, a pinned butterfly too exhausted to even wriggle.

Perhaps Harriet’s eyes widened a little, perhaps she stared for a little too long – whatever the reason, the man with his back to them shifted and half-turned his head.

‘Ms Stowe? Are you all right?’

There was only Harriet and Thea and the look stretching between them like putty, binding them. The rest of the beach, Rory, the boat – all of that was just scenery.

‘I …’

Thea was aware of the cold snow she was kneeling in, how her kneecaps had numbed. She was aware of Rory breathing next to her and the wrinkled bark of the tree that had not hid her well enough.

Harriet snapped her gaze back to the black-clad man. ‘I’m fine.’