They think it’s a good idea to stay at a friend’s for the night and wait for me to pack a bag before we all leave the island at the same time. I can’t help but feel that I’m abandoning her all over again.

The day is hot, scorching to be exact; we’ve definitely entered a heat wave. Just tying my boat up to Ezra’s dock in the sun causes sweat to roll down my back. Coming around the boathouse to make my way up to Ezra’s apartment, I notice Willa digging in the garden. She’s not wearing a hat, and her face is bright red and shiny with sweat. She really shouldn’t be out in the sun on a hot day like this. She’ll get heatstroke for sure, if she hasn’t already.

Ezra told me to just steer clear of his mother while I’m here, that Judy will take care of everything, but Judy is nowhere to be seen. I can’t just leave her out here if she doesn’t know enough to go inside on her own.

I put my bag down and start a slow approach across the lawn. “Willa?” I say, as cheerfully as possible. “It’s me, June.” This time I definitely do not want her to think I’m my mother. She looks up, confusion on her face, which doesn’t clear even when I’m standing right in front of her. “I think you should go inside. Get out of the sun. It’s very hot out here.”

She gives a weak nod and lets me take her by the arm and help her up. She’s unsteady on her feet and leans against me as we make our way into the stone cottage. It’s cool in the kitchen, and she breathes a soft sigh of relief.

“Why don’t you go sit down in the living room, and I’ll bring you a glass of water?” I offer.

She turns and shuffles off. I go in search of a glass and then, when I find one, fill it to the brim with cold water. Not sure if she’s eaten anything all day, I make her a plate with some grapes and crackers, just in case.

She’s sitting in her chair by the window, staring out at the yard, her hands folded in her lap. I place the plate and glass down on a small side table so that it’s within reach.

She looks up at me, and I can’t tell if she’s still in the present or has disappeared again.

“I could have forgiven him if it weren’t for the girl,” she says quietly.

“Could have forgiven who?” I ask.

“West. I could have forgiven him.” She shakes her head. “But it’s all because of her. The girl. If it hadn’t been for the girl.”

“I’m sorry, Willa, but I don’t know what girl you’re talking about.”