“But the police told me to stay on the island,” Marissa said.

“The formalities can’t take more than a day or so,” Robert said. “It would take me almost two days to get there. Besides, it would be hard for me to leave now. It’s only a week before April fifteenth, and you know what that means: taxes. It’s better for you to come home as soon as you can.”

“Sure,” Marissa said, her tone suddenly flat. “I understand.”

“Should I call Gustave?” Robert asked.

“If you would,” Marissa said. But then she changed her mind. “On second thought,” she added, “maybe I should do it. Gustave may want to talk to me.”

“All right,” Robert said. “Then call me back as soon as you know when you’re arriving.”

Marissa put the receiver down. Calling Gustave was going to be the hardest phone call she’d ever made. She tried to think of what to say, but there was no way she could soften the news. Finally, she picked up the phone and dialed.

Gustave answered on the first ring. As a surgeon, he was no doubt accustomed to being awakened in the night. He didn’t even sound as if he’d been asleep, though Marissa was sure he had been.

She got to the point quickly, telling Gustave exactly what had happened. She was even able to hold back her tears until she had finished relating the day’s events.

On the other end, over the thousands of miles, there was only a heavy silence.

“Gustave—are you all right?” Marissa asked, her voice breaking.

After a pause, Gustave said, “I . . . I suppose I will be. It’s . . . just so hard to believe. But Wendy always was a bit foolhardy when diving. Where are her belongings?”

“I’ve packed them,” Marissa said, surprised and relieved that Gustave was taking the horrid news so well. She guessed he was relying on his practiced surgeon’s objectivity and that the reality would hit later when he was alone.

“It must have been a terrible shock for you,” Gustave said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m managing,” Marissa said.

“Marissa, I appreciate your calling. If you could just ship her belongings to me I would be most grateful. I’ll contact the Australian authorities. I’d better go. Goodbye.”

The line clicked dead and Marissa slowly replaced the receiver in its cradle. Her heart ached with the same pain she knew Gustave was feeling.

Flopping back on the bed, Marissa covered her face with her hands and sobbed until she could no longer cry. Then, with her hands still covering her face, her sadness began to transform to irritation, then even to anger.