Page 59 of Dead of Summer
Faith looks down at the black water swirling below. Would she make it if she jumped? Could she swim back to shore?
“So, what’ll it be, Faith? Maybe it’s time to just take your wins and calm down, live your life.”
“No.”
Geoffrey’s expression changes. The volatile smile falls off his face and he steps close to her. His fingers dig into her shoulder. His breath is hot and acrid in her face. “How fucking dare you? You thought you could waltz in here and disrupt everything. Who the fuck are you? Some little nobody from nowhere. Do you know who I am?” Spit gathers in the corners of his mouth as he releases his full Clarke anger on her. “Look at that ring. It’s worth more than anything you’ve ever owned in your life. But it’s still not enough for you, is it? Women.” He waves his hand, disgusted.
“No. I don’t want it,” Faith says with sudden clarity. “Not anymore. Not like this.”
“Well then, you may as well be dead to me.” His hands are on her shoulders in an instant, shoving her with surprising force against the rail. Faith squirms beneath his grasp. He is red-faced, winded. She feels her feet leave the ground. She is tipping back when a small voice breaks through the sound of the waves, barely audible.
“Faith!” The voice makes Geoffrey draw back, surprised. Faith looks over his shoulder as a young woman runs barefoot across the deck, clutching the hem of her long, fitted dress.
“Gemma!” Faith yells to her.
“What are you doing out here?” Geoffrey barks. He spins back toward Gemma, unpinning Faith from the railing. “Who let you out?”
Two very large men have appeared at the top of the glass staircase. There to do Geoffrey’s bidding.The Clarkes have a way of getting out of things.“Run Gemma!” Faith yells, her feet grip the deck as they run toward the back of the ship. The men follow them, efficiently moving their huge bodies in pursuit. They reach a deck that juts out over the water. The waves rush below, white crests on black.
“I didn’t understand what it all meant,” Gemma cries. “I thought they were going to help me. I just wanted my future to be better.” Faithunderstands her completely then. She understands the way someone could tie their future to a terrible man. Faith had done it herself.
“We have to jump,” Faith whispers, helping Gemma up over the railing as the men close in on them.
“Will we be okay?” Gemma asks, her teeth already chattering. But Faith doesn’t answer. There is no time, and she doesn’t know. She steps off the ledge, Gemma’s hand in hers, and they plummet toward the inky water.
HENRY
Their dresses trail through the night sky like banners until they hit the water with barely perceptible splashes.
Henry steps away from the telescope and dashes outside skidding down the old staircase with panic rising in his throat. He freezes at the threshold of the dock, where he stops and stands, trembling. He can’t just leave, can he? What about Margie? He looks up at the windows as though Margie is still inside and he needs to care for her, to keep her safe.
But it was never really safe, was it?Her voice is at his back. It is kind and nurturing.
No, it wasn’t,Henry thinks, blinking back tears.
You must go now, Henry.
This will change everything.
Yes.
What about you?But there’s no answer.
Margie’s sickness had advanced almost without him even noticing. First, she’d spent more time in bed. Then they’d stopped taking meals at the table. It was slow, over the course of months. He should have paid closer attention. He hadn’t had time to prepare.
“Bury me here,” she’d instructed him near the end. She knew her time was coming, of course she did. But Henry still couldn’t imagineit. He shook his head, unwilling to hear her. “Here on the island,” she’d repeated.
“Do you want a piece of toast? Some tea?” he asked instead, trying to push away the panic that had gripped his throat.
Her fingers were weak on his arm. She was insistent. “Hush, Henry. Enough, now listen. I don’t want to leave this place. Keep me here.”
“Stop, Margie, I don’t want to hear it,” he choked.
“There’s a place on the leeward side. The stones are loose. It’ll work nicely.” She’d said it with enough conviction to send dread coursing through his veins.
“Margie,” he had moaned. The horror of it was upon him now. She was telling him the truth.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Henry admitted.
