Max blinked at her in surprise. He knew she wasn’t happy here but—he didn’t think she was happy anywhere. “You signed a contract.” Stupid response, not helpful, because of course he couldn’t trap her on the island. “The contract stated that if you leave before September and while we still require your services, you lose all the bonus promised at the end, and that is a considerable amount.”

Kellen had followed Olympia to the library, but stopped in the doorway.

Olympia stood in the middle of the carpet in the middle of the office, straight and stiff, and he realized she no longer looked like the Olympia Paolergio he’d hired. She was… disheveled. But she sounded like herself—flat, firm and unemotional. “I’m quitting.”

Max met his wife’s gaze.

She grimaced and gestured at him to continue.

He leaned forward, set his elbows on the table, put a warm understanding in his voice and in his eyes. “Olympia, please sit down.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, shutting him out. “I don’t want to sit down. I want to leave.”

So warmth and understanding weren’t going to work. “I did warn you about the isolation and the difficulties in living here. You said you could handle them.”

“I’m quitting.” When Max would have made another objection, Olympia slashed the air with her hand. “You didn’t tell me I’d be receiving my cooking supplies from an alcoholic drug addict. You didn’t say there would be winds sweeping across the island that make the house creak, or the walls would sing in languages I don’t recognize.” She whispered, “The Frog God. All my life, I’ve heard of the Frog God. The Native Americans talk about him, about his powers. He crushed Kateri Kwinault and brought her back to life, and now—” Olympia’s voice rose “—I’ve heard him in the waves thrashing against the sand.”

Kellen put her hand over her eyes. Olympia Paolergio had slipped a gear.

Max almost stammered as he tried to think what to say. “The Frog God is pretty much a Native American icon from the coast up around—”

Olympia focused on him once again. “You didn’t say that a woman down the hill hates everyone so much she won’t even speak to me except to complain that you’re rebuilding a truck. A truck! Like that matters to me!”

So Jamie had complained to Olympia about the F-100. At least she was consistent.

Olympia was almost spitting out her complaints now. “You didn’t tell me your family would spend all your time outside, running and biking and—” For a long moment, Olympia appeared to have trouble speaking. Then the words caught up with her. “And leaving me in the house to battle rats who…who steal food from the pantry and scurry away into corners and disappear.”