But all of these questions seemed pointless now, with Jeremy pacing back and forth across the kitchen like this. He opened the door that led to the back deck.

“Where are you going, Jeremy?” Was he going to go back to the mainland, sleep at the hospital, find a hotel? She felt short of breath. Was she going to hyperventilate? “You’re not going to leave the island, are you? Please don’t leave the island.”

“I. Can’t. Leave. The. Island.” The way he spoke, each word parceled out like a noxious gift, gave her chills. She’d seen him angry before—of course he yelled, everybody yelled sometimes, she did too—but this anger was so quiet, so neatly contained. “Because of the storm.”

“Storm?” Lu looked outside. She didn’t see any storm.

“It’s coming,” he said. “Apparently offshore the winds are really picking up. Hurricane-force. Should be hitting the island later today. They’ve shut down the ferry.”

“They’ve shut down the ferry?” All she could do was stand there like an idiot, repeating his words. “Should I call back Maggie and the boys?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Apparently you know what’s best for the boys, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

The words stung, as he’d meant them to. He was waiting for her to say something else. He was waiting for an apology, she realized. She started to gather one up but then the words lodged in her throat, or maybe even deeper, in her soul. It wouldn’t be true to say them, because she wasn’t sorry. She lifted her chin and waited for him to say something else.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said finally, in that same strange, cold voice. “On the beach.” He held out his phone. “But first, before I do. Can you please tell me how I can find this blog?”

Lu took his phone. Her hands were shaking so much that at first she couldn’t open the browser. Then she typed in the address and handed the phone back to Jeremy.

He was going to read all of it now. He was going to read two years’ worth of her posts, and he’d see all the wrong things. He wouldn’t see the artistry behind the cooking or the beauty in the charcoal drawings.

“Okay,” he said. He was still wearing his scrubs, but he kicked off his shoes and left them at the door. He disappeared.

He was gone more than an hour. When he came back, he went right up to the bedroom, not saying a word, walking by Maggie, who was delivering the boys back after arts and crafts.

“Do you mind hanging out for a little bit?” Lu asked Maggie. “Just a few minutes?” This conversation with Jeremy needed to happen now, not after Maggie had gone. Now.

She knocked on the bedroom door. There was no answer, so she pushed it open. Jeremy was sitting in the straight-backed chair by the window. To Lu’s knowledge nobody had sat in the straight-backed chair all summer.