Page 22 of Everything We Left Behind

I returned the photo to its spot on the bureau and thought of Carla. Her despair over losing her loved ones—how, I did not yet know—had been palpable. It got to me.

The air inside my room had become hot and stifling. I flipped on the ceiling fan, snatched my phone from the bedside table, and slid open the door to the deck off my room. Boards groaned as I strode across the rough wood. Leaning against the rail, I swiped aside a notification from Imelda—Please come see me after you close Monday—and called Natalya.

“Hey, you,” she murmured. The dusty softness of her tone washed over me, easing the emptiness. Her voice did that to me, calmed and soothed.

“Did I wake you?”

“That’s okay.” She yawned. “I fell asleep on the couch.” Fabric rustled, a lock clicked, and a door slid open. Wood creaked and she sighed. I pictured her easing into a patio chair, gazing at the same ocean before me, thousands of miles away.

I parked my elbows on the railing. “Long day?” It was midnight here, making it seven o’clock in Hawaii.

She hummed an acknowledgment. “I went paddleboarding with Katy and her students,” she said of her friend. Katy ran a surf-and-paddleboard summer camp in Hanalei. “We fought the wind the entire time. The sunset was unbelievable, though. It looked like an orange-cream Popsicle melting into the water.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “Now I’m craving ice cream.”

She laughed softly. “Me, too. What flavor?”

“Chocolate chip.”

She groaned. “That’s so boring.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“Poi.”

“Poi?”

She hummed again.

“As in the taro root?”

“Yes.” She laughed.

I made a face. “Sounds disgusting.”

“It’s to die for. You’ll have to try it.”

I made a noise of objection.When?I thought. You couldn’t get poi ice cream here and I wouldn’t travel. For the past six months, I’d refused to leave the state.

Under the moonlight, the tide lapped the shore like a dog’s tongue in a water bowl. Lazy and rhythmic.

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Nat, don’t.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Don’t apologize.” She hated reminding me about my condition. For a few moments, neither of us spoke. We listened to the rhythm of our breaths and I longed to have her here.

She sighed. “Since you didn’t call to chat about ice cream, whatdoyou want to talk about?”

I had so much to say to her, and something bigger to ask, but the words dissolved in my mouth the way water does on hot pavement. “Nothing in particular,” I said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

A throaty laugh reached my ear. “I sound like a frog.”

“I should let you go. What time’s your flight?”

“Too early.” She groaned. “And I have meetings in LA all afternoon. See you in a few days?”

“Yes. We’re looking forward to it.” Because the way I saw it, Natalya was the only way I could keep my promise to Raquel, the one I’d made when I kissed her lifeless body for the last time.

I’ll keep them safe.

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