For a moment, her face went utterly blank. The kind that bespoke genuine surprise at the question. “Two weeks ago, wasn’t it? Right after poor Johnnie Rosedew. I thought at first she was just going to Tresco to be there for the funeral, but she took an awful lot with her. And when she didn’t come back—well, I knew you’d talked her into staying home. Though I must say, I was a trifle peevish when she didn’t bother letting me know she was done with the place. Had I not happened to see her leaving with all her things . . .”

Oliver’s frown dug its way back into his forehead as she spoke. “She didn’t come home.” He said it so simply. Clearly. So very briefly that even Mrs. Pepper must have heard how the words haunted him down to his soul.

“What? But of course she did! Where else could she have gone? I watched her for a good five minutes, and she was clearly going in the direction of Tresco.”

In lieu of a reply, Oliver shook his head, the muscle in his jaw ticking. He was likely clenching his teeth in that way he did when it took everything in him not to respond to something. Usually one of Casek’s taunts. He let go of her hand.

Mrs. Pepper lifted her newly freed fingers, shaking, to her lips. “But—no. The weather’s been fine, the currents normal. She was too able a sailor to get lost or go astray or get caught out, otherwise I never would have countenanced her going round alone as she did. Nothing bad could have happened to her. Not like your parents. Or Johnnie.”

Not like your parents. Or Johnnie. The Tremaynes, who had also known the tides and currents and weather as well as any other Scillonian but had still been caught out in a storm and drowned. Johnnie, who had known the dangers but had slipped on the wet rocks of the cave, presumably, and taken a fatal fall. Just two of many tragedies to steal the islands’ people in her memory.

With the greatest of care, Mabena uncurled each finger from her palm. There was no need to assume the worst. Not given that letter, opaque as it might be when it came to Beth’s reasons for going. The going was still part of her plan. As was coming back. Soon. Any day, given the timing. “A few weeks” was up, or nearly. And if she’d left with a boatload of things but those things weren’t the items she’d brought here, they were likely supplies. Food, necessities. Beth, wherever she was, was well provisioned. She was fine.

They just had to be patient for a little bit longer.