“Algae,” she murmured. Suddenly tired. So tired. Her parents had had a swimming pool at their beach home in the Hamptons. Sparkling blue water. That first summer after she and Kevin married, she’d joined her parents as she always did to escape the heat and humidity of New York. She used to like swimming. Until one summer’s day, her parents were attending the neighbor’s beach party, four houses down. Sarah had stayed back because Kevin was driving out from the city to spend the weekend. She had been doing laps in the pool and hadn’t heard his car arrive. He’d been pissed off she hadn’t greeted him properly, that was until he discovered a new game he enjoyed. He had shoved her under the water, pinned her there, and watched the show. Then he’d dragged her to the surface by her hair, only for a second before shoving her under again. Over and over, each time keeping her under for longer. Add to that Norman Rockwell memory, the impromptu “dip” in the freezing Pacific Ocean three weeks ago off Solace Island, when she’d had to smash the window and leap from her captor’s yacht. On the upside, she had deprived him of the exquisite pleasure of orchestrating her long, torturous death. Something she took great satisfaction in. However, two unpleasant aquatic memories seemed to have ruined any pleasure she could derive from large bodies of water. Even small ones were now an issue. Used to be there was nothing she liked better than a hot bath to wind up the day. No more. It was a shower or nothing.

“It’s what?”

For a second she couldn’t remember what they had been talking about. Oh yes. The pool. Green water. “Algae.” She leaned against the doorframe, hoping to get a grip on the sick, nauseous feeling that always arose when her mind touched on Kevin. “I’ll get someone on it tomorrow. But again, you’ll have to leave cash for me to pay them.”

He reached out, startling her. “It’s okay.” He released her elbow immediately, backed up slowly, hands up. “I was just steadying you. You got pale. You all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, tugging her mind away from the past, settling into the now. Her stupid stomach rumbled again. Louder this time.

“What have you eaten today?” His gaze was too intent, looking for clues, cracks past the mask to the person inside.

“None of your business.” Her throat felt constricted.

“Have you eaten today?” Acting like it was a casual question, but it didn’t fool her.

“Again.” Working to keep her expression calm. “None. Of your. Business.”