“It doesn’t feel real,” Willa says finally as she starts the engine. “Like, if someone had told me that someday I’d be sailing to a tropical island, I would have laughed in their face. Kids like me don’t usually get to do things like this. I always thought my dreams had to be practical—get a college degree and make enough money to pay the bills—so this is beyond beyond.”

“You were the one who got us here,” Taylor says. “Maybe it was Finley’s idea, but you made the whole trip happen. So if anyone is going to land somewhere beyond their wildest dreams, it will be you.”

“We’ve both come so far.” Willa laughs to keep her tears at bay, but fails. “I mean, look at you. When we left Sandusky, you didn’t even like sailing.”

Taylor smiles. “To be honest, it’s still not my favorite thing, but I kind of like knowing how to do it.”

“It might come in handy if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse.”

Taylor snorts a laugh as she climbs up on deck to lower the mainsail. “You’re such a dork.”

According to the rules of entry, they are required to raise a solid yellow quarantine flag to indicate they haven’t officially checked into the Bahamas yet. They don’t have a Q-flag, so Taylor cuts a rectangle from an old yellow T-shirt. The makeshift flag flutters in the breeze as they motor into the anchorage. Once they’ve cleared customs and immigration, they return to Whiskey Tango Foxtrot long enough only to grab their snorkel gear.

“So what should we do while we’re here?” Willa asks as they walk down the King’s Highway, the island’s main drag. The road is lined with shabby, colorful homes, souvenir shops, corner markets, bars, and local restaurants. They’re passed by locals in cars and tourists in rented golf carts.

“Hit the highlights,” Taylor says. “Swim, snorkel, eat conch, drink beer that we don’t need fake IDs to buy, and sleep out on deck under the stars.”

“Yes, yes, yes, and . . . yes.”

They cut down a side road leading to the west side of the island, to Radio Beach, where they peel off their clothes, don their flippers and masks, and swim out into the crystalline water. The bottom is white sand with large scattered rocks, where tiny fish dart into the shadows as Willa passes over. She finds a red starfish bigger than her hand, and as she and Taylor move into deeper water, a small green sea turtle swims right up to Willa’s face mask. Clearly unafraid of humans, the turtle paddles around the girls, getting close enough for Taylor to make a video with her phone and for Willa to stroke its soft underbelly. The world feels at once huge and tiny, and she feels so overwhelmed with wonder that she surfaces to catch her breath.