“I realized something then, Mary.” He loosens his grip, drums his fingers against the wood. He paces back to the window as if trying to postpone what he'll say next. I pull my knees to my chest, trying to prepare myself for anything.

“I haven't been fair to you,” he finally says. My skin tingles; every sense sharpens. I can hear the way he breathes, the air entering his lungs, his heart pumping in his chest. I can still smell his fear.

“I should have told you earlier what Gabrielle told me. About the ocean.” He looks at me now, his eyes pained and pleading. It's as though everything around me drops away until it's only Travis and me, together in this tiny room high up in the trees.

“What do you mean?” I ask and my voice feels small in my ears. My heart pounds ferociously now. “You told me she said nothing to you. That you didn't talk.” He taps one finger against the wood framing the open window. A morning breeze lifts his hair for a moment, circles the room and then slips away. He closes his eyes as if to savor the feel of fresh air on stale skin.

“Gabrielle had been to the ocean,” he finally says.

I suck in my breath; the world seems to tilt for just a moment. “When?” I say as I exhale.

“How?” In the silence it occurs to me that if she's traveled there then it must be close. It means that it exists and that I can go there as well.

I tear the covers away and my legs tangle in the fabric, causing me to wince as the delicate scabs from the attack yesterday break open. I stumble forward but Travis makes no move to catch me. When I have my balance I rush to him at the window, take his arms in my hands.

“Don't you know what this means?” I say to him. My body feels light. Suddenly, I'm the happiest I've been since my mother died.

“We can go there,” I tell him. “If she went there then we can go there as well.” I begin to pace, the energy boiling inside my veins.

“Did she tell you how far? Did she tell you how to get there?” I stop and walk over to face Travis, my chest barely brushing against his. “Did she tell you what it was like? About the waves? The smell?”

Travis grasps my arms, pulling me in on myself and almost lifting me from the rough wood of the platform.

“She told me it's dangerous, Mary!” I can see now that his chest is heaving, his breath fast, his face red and his jaw tight. He shakes me, just a little. “She told me it's dangerous,” he repeats in a softer voice. As if I would only understand if he continues to tell it to me over and over again.

I feel my own face pinch in confusion. “Dangerous how?” I ask. I pull my arms from his grasp and cross them over my chest.