Page 85 of Beach Bodies

What was the value of Trevor’s life versus Mom’s?

The first time I visited Mom, I cried on the other side of the glass, snotty, repeating, ‘He wasn’t worth it, Mom, he wasn’t worth it.’ And he wasn’t. The scales in my mind had already weighed this out. Trevor’s shitty, worthless existence versus Mom’s.

And yet the justice system didn’t use those scales to measure out the penalty.

Mom had to pay everything for that nothing piece of shit.

A transaction I’ve never recovered from.

And now, it could happen to me too.

Daniel has no proof– that I’ve found, at least– to incriminate me for any of the previous deaths. But this one, he watched me do– or attempt to do. If I bring her back, attempted murder might only give me a couple of years in prison, if it goes favourably for me. But if I let her die? I could spend the rest of my life behind bars. Just like Mom.

‘No,’ I say simply to Daniel. ‘She’s not worth it.’

Then I lay the heels of my hands on Serena’s chest, lock my elbows, and pump.One. Two. Three.

I register Daniel on the phone, calling for an ambulance. ‘Yes, someone almost drowned… Yes, the beach just outside Brisebleue. Thank you.’

When he disconnects, he drops to his knees next to me.

The wind hisses through the sand like a hundred snakes. The waves roll with bottomless, insatiable energy.

Maybe Daniel thinks I’ve had a change of heart. But I haven’t. This is pure self-interest at work, and I can’t be sorry for it.

The thirty chest compressions are done. I pinch Serena’s nose and lock my mouth with hers.

Two breaths, into her lungs. I feel her inflate under my hands, then wrench myself up and prepare to start chest compressions again.

‘Killing people is not the solution, Lily,’ says Daniel. ‘There are better ways to save people.’

‘You. Don’t. Get. It,’ I say, putting my energy into the fresh set of chest compressions, ticking the numbers off in some separate space in my head. ‘The world sits by while people get hurt. The world sat by while my mom—’ I suck in my breath, remembering the clang of metal on skull. The way Trevor crumpled to the ground, all that wickedness snuffed out with one moment of brave violence. My mother cared. Killing Trevor was the ultimate sign of her love for me.

‘I’m not going to sit by,’ I continue. ‘I’m not going to move on, or let things go. I give a shit. I. Give. Ashit, Daniel, and if that makes me the bad guy, so fucking be it.’

‘Don’t you see?’ He’s angry and earnest, and when I spare him a glance, his eyes are boring into me with all their familiar intensity. ‘You’ve made yourself into the judge.’

‘Yeah.’ I laugh bitterly.Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight.‘I have, Daniel. But you know what? So have you. Everyone judges, all the time. You think telling the story is enough. I think that’s bullshit. Ichangethe story.’

Thirty.I have a feeling that she’s not coming back, but I fit my mouth to Serena’s anyway and push two more breaths into her.

‘Lily…’ Daniel breathes out a ragged breath. ‘Ididn’ttell the story.’

I come back up from the mouth-to-mouth, then put my faithful lifeguard hands on Serena’s chest and start the count again.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Five years ago, when I was a reporter at thePacific… I got your email.’

I’m about to say,what email, when it hits me.

‘I knew I had to run that story,’ he continues. ‘Yourstory. But there was an investor in the paper who also sat on the Riovan board. My boss made me kill it. I’m sorry.’

I stop the chest compressions. We stare at each other. The wind ruffles my hair.

If Daniel had investigated the Riovan five years ago—

Everything inside me wants to collapse at once, but I have a job to do, so I set my hands on Serena. Again.

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