I heard about the storm a few days after Chase left. I was at the Fishery, trying to decide what to eat for dinner. Pascal was using the radio in the back, but the door was open, so I could hear every word he said.

A ship's instruments malfunctioned. The crew and passengers were caught off-guard when the storm came.

Ozzie had been talking to me, but I stopped listening. My blood pounded so hard in my ears I could only hear a rush. The old captain sat back in his chair. After a moment, he stood and came to the front counter.

"What happened?" I asked. My voice shook.

He looked at me. "The details are a little fuzzy, but word is there was a storm and an ill-prepared ship."

"Is everyone okay?"

He frowned. "A dozen unaccounted for at the moment."

"Was it the ship that just left Castanet?"

"That… seems to be the case."

"Who?" My heart raced. Black spots pulsed in my vision. "Please, tell me."

He shook his head. He took too long to answer. I turned away, hurried out of the shop, and ran to the beach. I hadn't even bought my fish.

I stood on the shore, and the chilled wind grabbed at my clothes. The blue went on forever. The sky and the sea. I shouldn't have let Chase go. My chest hurt so much, it felt like my lungs were collapsing, like my heart was tearing and bleeding. Even if he survived, there were so many other things that could happen. And even if he ended up okay, what if he never came back?

The chances of seeing him again…

I wanted to run into the ocean and keep running until my body was swallowed up by the blue. Chase was gone. And some days it felt like Gill was gone, too.

I pulled my boots and socks off and stepped into the water. It stung. I kept walking. I imagined the waves were knives slicing into my skin. What a nice feeling, to bleed this way, to have my life dissolve in the sea.

Chase wouldn't know. Gill would be relieved. He wouldn't have to worry about burdening me anymore. My parents… they would be fine. And Roscoe was gone, too.

"Hey, Angela!"

I sucked in a breath. The water nipped at my waist, coaxing me further.

Luke called to me again, his voice closer. I didn't turn around. This was stupid. He'd think I was stupid. But if Chase was dead, I couldn't think anymore. I couldn't. I let him go because I thought he'd be happy, but it was a mistake.

"Angela, what are you doing?" he asked. I heard a splash. Slowly, I turned my head. Luke was wading into the water, his hand outstretched. "Come here."

I couldn't move. My body was shaking. It was so cold. If Chase died, if he drowned, in this water, was this how it felt? Was the water this cold? Did he hurt in his final moments?

I kept walking. When my feet no longer touched the ground, I plunged under the water. The salt stung my eyes. I opened my mouth. Air bubbles erupted in front of me and floated to the surface. Under the water, I thought I could hear Chase. His laughter. It was the last time I heard him laugh, for real, when he'd let me try playing his flute. I couldn't figure out how to make a sound. When I finally did, it sounded like the screech of metal during a car wreck, and the effort made me so dizzy I almost fell over. He laughed and said I was trying way too hard; after all, he'd learned to play when he was five. He laughed, and I would've done it again until I passed out if I could've heard him laugh like that again.

My body was yanked upward, and as soon as I broke the surface I started gasping. Luke grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward the shore.

My clothes clung to my body. This cold was unlike anything I'd experienced. Luke held me close to him, his arms firm and strong around me.

Out of the water, with the wind's stabbing chill against my skin, the memory was gone. Chase was dead. I let him go, and now he was dead. I couldn't breathe. Gill told me about the storms, but I didn't think it mattered. He told me how dangerous they were, and I forgot, and I let him go.

A strangled noise tore from my throat. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. I sobbed. My entire body cried. My head hurt, and this ache in my heart threatened to split my chest.

Luke smoothed my hair and held me so tight it hurt. When I got control of myself again, he took my hand and led me forward. I didn't know where we were going. He led me down the path, keeping me close and hidden at his side, and up the stairs to the old schoolhouse. He told me to stay put, and then he went around the side. Less than a minute later, he opened the front door from the inside and motioned for me to follow.

When I was inside, he shut the door and locked it again. I was shivering so violently I fell to my knees on the floor.

"Here's a blanket," he said. "But first you need to get out of those wet clothes. I won't look. I promise."

Luke turned around, and I fumbled with the button on my pants. My hands were numb and trembling. I took my shirt off instead and pulled the blanket to my chest. While facing the opposite wall, Luke pulled off his boots and his jeans.

"I can't," I whispered. He didn't hear me, so tried again louder.

He glanced behind him. "Is it okay if I help you?"

I nodded.

He knelt beside me. His hands were gentle and steady. He unfastened the button carefully and turned his head away as I tugged my pants off.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I don't care if you look."

He shook his head. He wouldn't turn around again until I was wrapped in the blanket. Then he took our clothes and draped them over the chairs to dry.

He sat down in front of me, cross-legged, and stared at me.

"Chase left," Luke said. "Didn't he?"

I dug my nails into my palms. "I heard… the boat he was on… a storm came and people died. He's dead, Luke. It's my fault."

"Do you know for sure?"

I swallowed. "No. But even if he's not, he's not coming back here. I'll never see him again. No matter what, as far as I'll ever know, he's dead. And Gill…"

Luke leaned closer. "What about Gill?"

"He's dying. He's sick and he's going to die," I said. "That's why Chase wanted to leave. He won't come back, and Gill will die."

He shook his head slowly. He crawled forward on his hands and hugged me. This time he was delicate. "Chase loves you," he said. "You and Gill are the most important people in his life. He's coming back."

"He won't come back to watch Gill die, if Chase is even still alive."

"He's alive. He's not stupid. A storm or whatever… he won't die because of something like that," Luke said. "As for Gill, I don't know what's wrong, but I know whatever it is, he can beat it."

"What if he doesn't want to anymore?" I whispered.

"Angela," he said. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." He stood up and grabbed his jeans. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

I curled up on the floor and wrapped myself tighter in the blanket. Luke was gone for about fifteen minutes. When he came back, he had a paper bag.

"You hungry?"

I nodded and pushed myself up. He handed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. While I ate, he rummaged around the closet for a heater and brought it to where I was sitting. He turned it on, and soon I was warm again. Then he brought my clothes over to help them dry. We sat silently for minutes upon minutes that stretched into eternities.

Eventually Luke stood up again. "They're mostly dry," he said. He handed me my pants and my shirt. "I think your boots are still on the beach. I'll go get them."

"Thank you, Luke, but I'll do it."

I changed into my clothes and shut the heater off. "I want to check on Gill first. Do you want to come?"

He smiled. "No, that's okay. He didn't want anyone to know, right?"

I nodded. I couldn't keep thinking this way. Luke was right—Chase was smart. I had to trust him. I had to trust that he was okay, and that I would see him again. What was wrong with me, anyway? Gill wasn't dead. I hadn't lost him.

Luke moved toward the door.

"Luke, wait. Thank you," I said. "Thank you for helping me. I'd like it if we visited each other more often."

He smiled again.

At Gill's house, I knocked lightly on the door. My feet stung from the frozen ground. I took a breath. Everything was okay.

Gill answered the door, a pair of scissors in hand.

"Hey, good timing," he said, backing up and closing the door behind me. Dark circles shaded the skin under his eyes. "I was trying to trim my hair, but I can't see the back very well. Does it look okay?"

I motioned for him to turn around. A single tuft of hair stuck out, longer than the rest.

"Can I fix that for you?" I asked.

He handed me the scissors and sat on the dining chair, not bothering with a towel to cover his clothes. I didn't know how to cut hair, but there wasn't much that needed to be done. Just snip one piece of hair so it matched the others. I ran my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes.

I gently tugged the hair even between my fingers and cut.

The lock fell to the floor, golden and tidy, like a bundle of wheat. Now his hair was straight. He opened his eyes, and I smiled.

"Thanks," Gill said. He took the scissors from me and went into the bathroom.

I waited for him to come back out, but he didn't. I walked over to the open door see what he was doing. He leaned over the sink with one hand over his left eye, staring at his reflection.

He dropped his hand when he saw me in the mirror. "Hey, where are your shoes? You weren't wearing any when you came in, were you?"

"I went for a little swim…"

"God, Angela. What for? It's freezing out there. Here, have a pair of socks."

He went to his dresser and dug around. He handed me a pair of plain, white socks, and I slipped them on.

I wanted to ask if he'd heard the news about the ship, but he seemed to be in a good mood, so I didn't. "Are you feeling better today?"

He hesitated, his fingers hovering just under his eye. "Yeah. I think so."

"Is your eye okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Gill walked to the living room. I followed him. He stopped abruptly, and a second later, he turned toward me. "Sorry. I just remembered I have some paperwork to finish."

"Can I stop by again later?"

"It'll only take a few minutes."

"Then I'll just go get my boots."

I tugged off his socks by the front door and went outside. I ran to the beach as fast as I could so my feet wouldn't freeze to the stone. My boots were still there. I was glad I was smart enough to take them off before I went into the water. I brushed the sand off my feet and pulled my own socks on, then slid on my boots. It felt good to have them back on my feet.

When I pushed open Gill's front door, I saw him sitting stiffly on the couch. All the lights were on. Not just the ceiling light, but each of the side table lamps, too. I didn't see any paperwork.

"Why are the lights on?" I asked. When I left earlier, there weren't any lights on. The window seemed to do a fine enough job lighting the room.

He pressed his lips together and glanced toward me, not quite meeting my eyes. "It seemed dark in here."

"Are you really feeling better?"

"I'm feeling fine. It's my vision. It's blurry or something."

"Your eyes must be tired." I switched the lights off around the room. "Why don't you lie down for a little while?"

He leaned back but didn't take my suggestion. His eyes fluttered around like the room was swarming with insects. I sat in the chair across from him and closed my eyes, thinking maybe he'd follow my example.

Chase was okay. He had to be. But the way things were now, he wouldn't come back. If Gill recovered, I wondered, would he return then? Was I supposed to keep hoping or let go?

I'd keep hoping, I decided. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't extinguish my hopes completely. Part of me still believed Gill would be healthy again, I would get Roscoe back, and Chase would be happy, living here, with us. With me.

When I opened my eyes again, I looked at the clock. It felt like a long time passed, but nothing much had changed. Gill was sitting across from me, his eyes closed, his mouth pulled tight with heavy thoughts.

I went to the kitchen for a glass of water to alleviate my dry throat. No sooner than I'd turned the faucet on, I heard Gill. He cried out in surprise, like he dropped something and couldn't catch it in time. His voice was thick with panic. He moaned, this time louder.

I rushed to the couch. "What happened?"

He pressed his palm against his eye. His mouth was open.

I touched his sleeve. "Gill?"

"Just… just a second." He blinked rapidly, deep creases laced across his forehead. "I can't see. My eye… there's nothing."

"It's okay," I said. It was terrifying, suddenly being blind in one eye, but I tried to quell his rising alarm. "Is anything else wrong? Does it hurt?"

He shook his head and covered his right eye. He looked around, his left eye skimming over my face, unable to focus. "It's completely dark."

"Let's go see Jin," I said.

Gill dropped his hand to his side. "He can't help me."

"What are you talking about? He's a doctor."

"He isn't equipped to deal with this. He doesn't know, Angela. He treats colds and poison ivy rashes. He doesn't know what's wrong with me."

"You said it doesn't hurt, right?"

He nodded.

"Maybe it's a migraine."

"I don't feel like I'm getting a migraine."

"Let me see," I said, leaning in. He turned toward me. His eyes were bright, little pieces of sky. I was so close I could see the different colored lines in his irises: some were pale contrails across the blue, and some were dark, like the denim of my jeans.

I didn't see anything wrong with his left eye. It was just as beautiful as the right.

"Maybe it's a pinched nerve. I'm sure it'll go away."

He leaned against me, his shoulder pressing into mine gently. He hung his head and pushed his fingers up through his hair. "I'm so tired," he said. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being tired. Every day…" He let out a small laugh. "It's worse every day."

"Here." I slid down the couch and pulled a blanket across my lap, patting it. "Just for a minute."

Gill glanced at the blanket. He sighed and lay down on his side, his head on my lap, probably just to humor me. I brushed my hand along the side of his face and swept the hair out of his eyes. Strands clung to my hand, remnants of hair that didn't get brushed away after he cut them.

It felt wrong to remember this now, but the memory of Chase and I at the clinic resurfaced in my mind. I thought about the moment I realized how much he meant to me, and how the only thing I could do was run my fingers through his hair. So that's what I did now, and hoped it would be enough.

But maybe I could've done more. Maybe if I'd told Chase then how much I loved him he wouldn't have left.

Gill took a deep breath, as if his thoughts were in a place darker than mine.

"It'll be okay," I said to Gill, and to myself. I ran my fingers through his hair, slowly, over and over. "Try to relax. I know you hate doing nothing, but there isn't much you can do."

"I know." He curled his body slightly. Then he closed his eyes and said, "I thought one day I would just go to sleep and never wake up again. I didn't know it would be like this. I didn't know I would have to watch myself fall apart and not be able to do anything about it."

I rested my hand on his arm and continued smoothing the ends of his hair against the blanket.

He was silent and motionless, but he was tense. I could feel his muscles taut under my fingers. I didn't speak again; I tried to tell him everything was going to be okay with my touch.

We stayed like this for a long time, until his breathing slowed and his body started to relax, and then I stopped combing my fingers through his hair. I was amazed.

I wanted to touch his face, gently, to feel his skin, to give him comfort, but I was sure even a small gesture would wake him. He wasn't like Chase, who wouldn't notice, who could fall asleep almost anywhere and sleep through almost anything.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't keep thinking of Chase.

But there was little else to think about. I looked at Gill, and in the back of my mind, like a dark presence, a hideous portrait on the wall, I knew he was going to die. I tried to forget and push it away, but panicked memories of every time he ever hurt were enough to keep the thought there.

He was right after all. That night on the beach, he said he didn't want us to look at him and think of death. I wished he was wrong, but I should've known by now. He was never wrong.

I thought pain faded and memories blurred. In a way, it was true. I could think about events, like the house burning or Chase bleeding and crumpled on the ground, without being gripped by the same terror.

But the terror wasn't gone.

I kept it in a special place, where it swelled and consumed my mind like a fog until I was scared and sad all the time without knowing why.

Pain never faded. It could only morph into something else. Sometimes that thing was healing or hope or wisdom, but sometimes it was worse—torment, devastation, cowardice.

I wanted to let Gill sleep for as long as possible, but this quiet allowed my mind to thunder. He was breathing now, but what if this was the last time? What if tomorrow he wasn't?

Wouldn't it be easier if this ended now?

My head exploded, churning with thoughts I never invited. I wanted to scream.

He'd stop suffering.

He can still get better.

But he's hurting so much.

I need to be strong.

Calm down. Calm down.

I took another breath. It felt like I was breathing through a straw.

When I first met Gill, I was intimidated. He was handsome and refined, unreal and distant, like a celebrity. Now here he was, fast asleep on my lap in the moments pain showed him mercy, and it seemed like there was a crack in reality, between what I thought I knew and what was true.

Horror seized me. With a trembling hand, I touched his face and moved my fingers down his cheek, toward his lips, praying I would feel his warm breath against my hand.

He woke with a start, and I jerked my hand back, my heart roaring in my ears.

"Sorry," he said. His voice was scratchy. He pushed himself up before he could even open his eyes fully. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

I stared at him, embarrassed and terrified I was going crazy. He hadn't noticed my hand so close to his face.

"Really, I'm sorry. It must have been uncomfortable for you," Gill said.

"No, not at all. Don't worry." I tried to smile. "How's your eye? Did it help?"

"My… Oh." He touched the skin under his eye. "I can see a little bit." Then he cleared his throat after a moment. "Are you hungry? I can make some food. But if you'd rather get back to work, I understand."

I shook my head. "I didn't… want to be alone today. I wanted to be with you."

When I didn't elaborate, Gill smiled faintly and looked toward the wall. "I used to be alone here. Every day since the school closed," he said. A long silence passed. "My father went to work early and stayed late. I busied myself with cleaning, reading, whatever I could do to pass the time. Loneliness didn't exist for me. But if you stopped coming to see me, I think I'd feel it. Even now, with Chase gone, there's something missing."

"Did you hear about the ship?" I asked. He didn't say anything, so I continued. "The ship that just left Castanet was caught in a storm. People died."

His eyebrows pushed together. "I heard… but that really happened?"

I nodded.

"My father… he told me, but I thought… I didn't believe him."

I clasped my still shaking hands in my lap. Gill watched in silence, then he put his hands on top of mine.

"Chase promised," he said. "He won't break a promise to you."

I'd forgotten. Gill made him promise us to take care of himself. Maybe they were just words, but Chase believed in promises.

"I don't know what he's doing or how long it will take, but I know he'll come back for you." Gill squeezed my hands. "So don't let yourself fall for me, okay? If you don't wait for him, it'll tear our family apart."

I smiled. "Our family?"

"It was a joke," he said. "But… I mean it."

He was right. I never said it aloud or had the audacity to even contemplate it, but Chase loved me. I knew it when he kissed me. I knew it when he carried me home and helped me with my work. I knew it when he was drunk and scared and begging me not to fall in love. If anything ever happened between me and Gill, it would be betrayal. Chase and I would never be able to look at each other again. Gill's relationship with him would be destroyed, too.

"I knew you'd been crying," he said, taking his hands away. "You can come to me whenever you're anxious. You can cry. You won't bother me."

The way he told me this, right after saying it was best if we didn't fall in love, there was a huge, beautiful freedom in that—knowing he meant what he said, knowing he expected nothing in return, and knowing there were no ulterior motives to his kindness.

But I couldn't tell him how I felt. Gill would blame himself for everything. No matter what I felt, he must have felt ten times worse.

A/N: (Sorry for the delay! I had to write a short story for my fiction class so my writing brain was a little occupied.) Thank you all so so much for the reviews. I can't even express in words how much all of your kind words mean to me :)

- Violet