Jack’s fingers found hers, clutching tight as they walked, and when Elise’s hand touched her back, their arms looped around Jack as they helped to support him, she knew her words had touched her friend, too. Her poor, heartbroken friend who now had to face a life without her sister.

“We can do this.” The words hissed out of her. “It’s not so far.”

In truth they had a long way to go, but compared to how far they’d already come, it was nothing.

And she’d been telling the truth before; Charlie had been more of a friend than a lover. His kisses had been warm and reassuring, his touch had been kind, but she knew in her heart that all she’d wanted was someone to trust, someone who wouldn’t hurt her. But Jack made her feel alive, and that was more important than a hidden photo.

“We can do this,” she whispered again, as much for herself as the others.

Hundreds or maybe even thousands of steps later, Elise directed them through some dense trees, and the ground suddenly changed beneath Cate’s feet, became soft.

Sand. They were walking on sand!

Cate’s mouth was dry; she would have done anything for a drink of water or to be able to sink to her knees and just breathe, but they had no idea whether they were too late, whether they could have only minutes before the boat left without them, if it was even still there at all.

“Stop,” Jack grunted, collapsing between them.

“No!” Cate gasped. “No! Get up!” She yanked at Jack’s arm but he was a deadweight. “Jack, get up!”

Elise dropped beside him, and Cate stared down in horror, her eyes adjusted to the dark now. She could make out both their shapes, and as much as her body ached and yearned to fall beside them, she wasn’t giving in, not for a second.

“We’re so close, come on,” she pleaded. “Jack, you need to find the strength. Get up!”

But Jack wasn’t moving, and he certainly wasn’t talking. All she could hear was the labored sound of his breath.

“Jack?”

Elise turned on her flashlight, and Cate’s heart dropped when she saw his face. His lips were parted and he was wheezing now, the sheen on his face giving him a strange pallor; even his eyes looked sunken, like someone close to death. He was much, much worse than she’d feared.

“Jack, you can do this,” she whispered, but she knew there was no way he was moving of his own accord.

“We’re going to have to carry him,” she said, staring at Jack’s body and wondering if it were even possible. “There’s no other way.”

“I know,” Elise said, turning off her flashlight. “But even if we have to drag him, we have to try.”