She stops laughing and gives me a serious look. “Because I’m not what Julian needs or wants.”

“And what is that?”

“You’ll learn someday,” she says mysteriously, then walks into the water.

I stare after her, curiosity eating at me, but she appears to be done talking. Instead, she dives in and starts swimming with a sure athletic stroke.

It’s hot outside, and the sun is beaming down on me. The sand is white and looks soft, and the water is sparkling, tempting me with its coolness. I want to hate this place, to despise everything about my captivity, but I have to admit that the island is beautiful.

I don’t have to go swimming if I don’t want to. It doesn’t seem like Beth is going to force me. And it seems wrong to enjoy myself at the beach while my family is undoubtedly worried sick about me, grieving about my disappearance.

But the lure of the water is strong. I’ve always loved the ocean, even though I’ve been to the tropics only a couple of times in my life. This island is my idea of paradise, despite the fact that it belongs to a snake.

I deliberate for a minute, then I take off my dress and kick off my sandals. I could deny myself this small pleasure, but I’m too pragmatic. I have no illusions about my status here. At any moment, Julian and Beth could lock me up, starve me, beat me. Just because I’ve been treated relatively well so far doesn’t mean it will continue to be that way. In my precarious situation, every moment of joy is precious—because I don’t know what the future holds for me, whether I will ever again experience anything resembling happiness.

So I join my enemy in the ocean, letting the water wash away my fear and cool the helpless anger burning in the pit of my stomach.

We swim, then lounge on the hot sand, and then swim again. I don’t ask any more questions, and Beth seems content with the silence.

We stay on the beach for the next two hours and then finally head back to the house.

7

Nora

This time, Julian is supposed to join me for dinner. Beth sets a table for us downstairs and prepares a meal of local fish, rice, beans, and plantains. It’s her Caribbean recipe, she tells me proudly.

“Are you having dinner with us?” I ask, watching as she carries the plates over to the table.

I’m showered and dressed in the clothes Beth provided for me. It’s another white lacy bra-and-panties set and a yellow dress with white flowers on it. On my feet, I’m wearing white high-heeled sandals. The outfit is sweet and feminine, very different from the jeans and dark tops I normally wear. It makes me look like a pretty doll.

I still can’t believe they’re letting me walk around the house freely. There are knives in the kitchen. I could steal one and use it on Beth at any point. I’m tempted, even though my stomach churns at the thought of blood and violence.