I try not to bug her too much. I leave the house during the day, spending most of my time on the beach or exploring the woods. I come back to the house for meals and to pick up a new book to read. Beth told me Julian will bring me more books when I’m done with the hundred or so that are currently in my room.

I should be depressed. I know that. I should be bitter and raging all the time, hating Julian and the island. And sometimes I do. But it takes so much energy, constantly being a victim. When I’m lying in the hot sun, absorbed in a book, I don’t hate anything. I just let myself get carried away by some author’s imagination.

I try not to think about Jake. The guilt is almost unbearable. Rationally, I know Julian is the one who did this, but I can’t help feeling responsible. If I had never gone out with Jake, this would’ve never happened to him. If I hadn’t approached him during that party, he wouldn’t have been savagely beaten.

I still don’t know what Julian is or how he’s able to have such a long reach. He’s as much of a mystery to me today as he’s ever been.

Maybe he’s in the Mafia. That would explain the thugs he has in his employ. Of course, he could simply be a wealthy eccentric with sociopathic tendencies. I truly don’t know.

Sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night. I miss my family, my friends. I miss going out and dancing at a club. I miss human contact. I’m not a loner by nature. Back home, I was always in touch with people—Facebook, Twitter, just hanging out with friends at the mall. I like to read, but it’s not enough for me. I need more.

It gets so bad that I try talking to Beth about it.

“I’m bored,” I tell her over dinner. It’s fish again. I learned that Beth catches it herself near the cove on the other side of the island. This time, it’s with mango salsa. It’s a good thing I’m a seafood fan because I get a lot of it here.

“You are?” She seems amused. “Why? Don’t you have enough books to read?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I still have seventy or so left. But there’s nothing else to do…”

“Want to help me fish tomorrow?” she asks, giving me a mocking look. She knows she’s not my favorite person, and she fully expects me to turn her down immediately. However, she doesn’t realize the extent to which I need human interaction.

“Okay,” I say, obviously surprising her. I’ve never been fishing, and I can’t imagine it’s a particularly fun activity, especially if Beth is going to be snarky the entire time. Still, I’d do just about anything to break the routine at this point.

“Okay, then,” she says. “The best time to catch these fuckers is right around dawn. Think you’re up for it?”