After he’d brought both, I wiped my hands on my pants, acutely aware of how clammy and damp my palms had become. I sipped my drink, staring out over the ocean, my stomach lurching as the images of another dream I’d had about Jack took over: his body limp, bloodied and bruised, tossed around in the waves like a rag doll, smashed and cut against the rocks. I moved farther back, away from the view.

When Patrick returned to take my order, I muttered something about being chilly next to the window, and then asked for the daily special. When he walked over with a sweet-smelling lobster quiche and a colorful side salad, the mere sight of them made my stomach growl. I hadn’t bothered eating much again and was glad I’d brought a belt with me to stop my pants from slipping.

“Are you visiting the area?” Patrick said as he put the plate down.

“Yes, I’ve never been to Maine before. Are you local?”

“Waterville, originally, but my boyfriend’s from here. It’s a great place—I love it.”

I wanted to keep our conversation going, but I didn’t seem able to string another sentence together. I was about to make a pathetic comment about the weather when a huge man with short red hair walked into the restaurant.

“Hey, Patrick,” he called over. “Maya in today?”

“Excuse me,” Patrick said, and as he walked to the entrance, I heard him say, “She’s got the day off.”

“Probably at Drift then,” the other man said, and Patrick gave a noncommittal shrug.

I wondered what Drift was, and quickly searched it up on my phone, finding a local store selling knickknacks made from driftwood, including mobiles and a number of impressive animal sculptures. I didn’t notice Patrick until he stood next to me, inquiring if I was enjoying the food. Replying it was delicious, I hoped he hadn’t noticed my screen, the sweat above my lip or how badly my fingers shook as I slid my phone back into my pocket.

16

MAYA

As I was about to head out to work in the garage in the morning, Ash practically bounded down the stairs, his face freshly shaved, the dark circles under his eyes almost gone. “What are you up to?” he said with a small yawn as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not at the restaurant today?”

“No, I’m covering for Barbara at Drift over lunch.”

Ash frowned. “Did you tell me that?”

“Yes,” I said, keeping my gaze even. “Last night.”

“Are you sure?”

“She’s taking her grandson to the dentist, remember?”

“Right, right.” He let out a sigh. “Actually, no, I don’t remember you telling me.”

“I did... Look, maybe mention how you’re forgetting stuff like this to Dr. Adler today?”