“I think we should motor sail for a while,” she says. “The stream has slowed our progress, and I’m worried we’re going to get pushed past the Bahamas and end up in the middle of the Atlantic.”

They leave the mainsail up and the engine helps the boat cut through the current, but it’s still a slower trip than Willa anticipated. They’re about halfway to Bimini when the sun starts to set. They’re completely out of sight of land—something neither of them have ever experienced—alone, except for a huge cargo ship in the distance. The sky turns brilliant gold with streaks of rosy pink, sherbet orange, and deep purple. Taylor goes for her cameras, but Willa trains her eye on the place where sky meets sea, watching for the green flash. For centuries, mariners have claimed to see a glimmer of green at the last moment of sunset. It lasts no more than a second or two—a very definite “blink and you’ll miss it” moment. Willa waits to look at the sun until it’s almost set and then she stares, unblinking.

Then it slips below the horizon and is gone.

“Oh my God,” Taylor whispers, almost reverently. “I just saw the green flash. I can’t believe it. Did you see it?”

“I must have blinked.”

Taylor snaps one more picture of the fading light. “My dad has seen it a bunch of times during overnight regattas. I can’t wait to tell him.”

Willa blinks rapidly, but she can’t keep the tears from trickling down her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Taylor asks.

“I’m jealous that I didn’t see the green flash,” she says. “And because I thought—okay, it’s ridiculous, but I thought seeing it would be a sign that Finley knows we’re going to be okay. And I also feel ridiculous for assigning an emotional value to a scientific phenomenon.”

Taylor laughs, but not unkindly. “Yeah, because no one has ever made wishes on shooting stars or when the clock hits 11:11 before.”

Willa gives her a grateful smile. “Good point.”

“And here’s the thing . . . I know we’re going to be okay. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Taylor shrugs. “So you probably didn’t need a sign.”

As darkness falls, they divide the night into equal shifts and take turns sleeping so they won’t be tired when they reach the island. Willa is on the sunrise watch when they cross into shallow water, brilliant green and so crystal clear that she can see starfish the size of dinner plates sitting on the sandy bottom and schools of silver fish flashing in the sunlight. Bimini sits in the near distance, awaiting their arrival.

“We made it,” she says as Taylor comes out of the cabin wearing her pajamas.

They stand there for a long moment, taking it all in.