The Missing - Kiersten Modglin (the reading strategies book TXT) 📗

came anywhere near as sturdy as Harry’s had, and none that had survived more than a few nights. Eventually, we just gave up, choosing to sleep unsheltered and take cover under the boulder whenever a storm got too bad.

By that point, we’d all developed deep tans, no longer burned by the sun even on its hottest day. We had bumps and scars and bruises from our time in the wilderness. We knew how to crack a coconut, clean a boar, catch a fish, and start a fire. We’d become experts on which coconut might hold the most juice, spotting fish darting beneath the ocean’s surface, and which wild animal made which sounds.

We knew our surroundings, the small amount of ground we’d allowed ourselves to turn into a home. We were surviving, taking on roles and tasks, and finding our way in our new normal.

But nothing was okay. James and Ava hadn’t stopped being cold to us, even if they slipped up occasionally and made a joke or laughed at one of ours, even if they passed us the food in the evening without a stony gaze or handed us a coconut without a locked jaw. Nothing was the same, and I suspected nothing ever would be again.

They disappeared constantly, telling us that Ava’s stomach was upset again, though it was rare that I actually saw her get sick. They said certain foods, especially on hot days, seem to upset her, but from where I was sitting, it seemed more like they needed excuses to sneak off together.

Noah kept me close to him, and I no longer refused to oblige him. He was the closest thing I had to a friend with Harry gone, and that was a commodity I couldn’t deny I needed.

Once every few days, the four of us would make our way to Harry’s grave, placing fresh flowers on the mound of dirt that had begun to sprout fresh grass. It was probably the only thing we did together where I could forget about the tension and let the sadness take over, let my grief over our friend be the only thing I felt.

“We have plenty of logs. We could find a way to tie them together. Something big enough for one or two people to float on,” James said, when no one responded to his comment about building a raft.

“And let me guess who those lucky two would be,” Noah said dryly.

“The girls could go, if you don’t trust me to send help back for you,” he said, his brows furrowed.

“Do logs float?” Ava asked, wide-eyed. “Like…really float?”

“There’d be no way to steer. The tide would end up pushing you right back up to shore,” Noah said.

“You don’t know that. If it could get out far enough, maybe we could catch the attention of a boat, and—”

“It doesn’t matter. You know the rules. We can’t do that. We shouldn’t even be talking about this,” I snarled, keeping my voice low. In the weeks since that day, there’d been no talk of escape. We’d followed the rules of the mysterious men behind the mysterious door. Why was he suddenly interested in disrupting the safety we seemed to have?

For a while, no one said anything. I picked at the meat in my hands—fish, again. It had been days since we’d managed to catch a boar or goat, and I was growing tired of fish. I stared at the fire. Next to it, we’d built a stack of our now-useless items: our phones, my Kindle, and Harry’s novel, which none of us could bear to open. The pile was almost a shrine to who we’d once been.

James threw the remainder of his food down with force, a huffed breath released at my expense. “You’re really just okay with this? After all this time? None of you are going to try and find us a way out of here?”

“There is no way out,” I said, sighing as I leaned back a bit. “Don’t you get that, James? This is it. This is our life—”

“Easy—” Noah began, but I cut him off.

“No. You were right, Noah. You told me that I needed to accept it, but I couldn’t. I wanted to believe we’d find a way. There’s always a way, I thought. But there’s not a way out of this. There wasn’t for Harry, and there’s not for us.” Ava scoffed, drawing the group's attention to her. “Do you have something you’d like to say?” I demanded, the heat contributing to my frustration.

She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coconut water and refusing to answer.

“Do you?” I asked again. “Because I would really like to know what exactly it is that I’ve done to piss you both off so badly. If you want to build a raft, build a damn raft, but count me out.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Ava asked, finally looking at me. It felt as if it was the first time we were making meaningful eye contact in so long.

“I’d like what?”

“Drop it, Ava,” James warned, putting a hand on her knee.

“No. Please.” I held out a hand to stop him from talking, my tone clipped. “I’d like to hear it. What is it you think I’d like?”

She appeared to be contemplating whether or not to say whatever was clearly on her mind, her nostrils flaring, eyes darting between mine. “If we build a raft and get caught, and they kill us…then the two of you are left to decide what to do next. It would make it easy on you, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t have to take us out like you did Ha—”

“Ava!” James cried, cutting her off, but I’d heard enough to know what she was going to say.

I stared at her, my eyes wide, jaw slack. Every ounce of anger had deflated from my body, replaced only with utter devastation. “Do you think that we…” I could hardly say the words. “That we killed Harry?”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t deny it, a