Air rushed into my lungs, filling me with hope, making my head spin with the possibility of finding Jack alive. I resumed my pacing, fiddled with the heart-shaped charm on the bracelet he’d given me on our first Valentine’s Day. He’d tucked it into a box of candy, and I hadn’t seen it at first, felt a tinge of disappointment as I thanked him for the chocolates. Despite our shared and somewhat negative opinions of the kitschy, commercial pseudo-forced romantic day, I’d hoped for...more. It wasn’t only the fact this was our first Valentine’s Day as a couple, but also the first time I’d seen the point of celebrating it with someone. Consequently, and embarrassingly, when he’d turned the lid of the box upside down to reveal the hidden jewelry, the fact he felt the same had made me cry.

“He’s still out there,” I whispered, looking up. “Are they searching—”

“The coast guard is doing its job,” Stevens said, holding up a bony hand, and his nonchalance made me want to grab his fingers and twist them backward until they snapped.

“The search isn’t why we’re here,” Heron added.

I stopped pacing, and my eyes darted from her to Stevens and back again as I tried to fathom what other reason might have brought them to my door. What could be more important right now than being out there, looking for Jack?

“We came because we want some information about, uh, Jack,” Stevens said.

“Okay.” I reached for my phone. “If you need another photo, I can—”

“Perhaps you should sit.” Heron gestured to the sofa, and something in her gentle tone told me to follow her command. I obediently walked over and sat down, perched on the edge of the seat, probably looking like I might make a run for it. Depending on what she told me, maybe I would.

“What’s this about?” I touched my bracelet again, wishing it were a portal to the past so I could tell Jack not to go swimming, or that it would transform itself into a magic lamp containing a genie who’d grant me three wishes. Or just one. One wish would be plenty.

“How well do you know Jack?” Heron said, and my forehead crinkled as I tried to focus enough to understand her question. “You mentioned you’ve been together for about a year and a half, is that correct?”

“Yes.” The air around me had become thick again, making it hard to breathe.

“And in that time,” Stevens took over, “have you met any of his family? Any old friends or acquaintances from before he arrived in Brookmount?”

“No. His parents are dead, and he has no siblings. Why?”

Heron rested her elbows on her knees. “The driver’s license in his wallet is a fake.”

“Huh?”

“A forgery,” Stevens said. “A good one, but not perfect. They rarely are.”