Summer Shadows

By the time I awoke, it was early afternoon; the sound of rain pattering lightly against my window was almost enough to lull me back to sleep as I rolled over, letting out a sleepy sigh as I tugged the comforter up. A rumble of thunder soon followed though, and my eyes pulled open reluctantly to be greeted with the sight of Katie curled up at my side.

Any pleasantries or want for a lazy day vanished in that moment; the memories of the previous night’s incident rolling back to the forefront of my mind with bitter recollection as I took in the bruises that marred her throat. Darren had been here; Darren had hurt one of the few important people I had left, and perhaps would have killed her. There was a slight hesitance in my movements as I reached over, brushing a few bleached strands of hair back from her neck. This was my fault. She had suffered because of me. And there was a very good chance that he wouldn’t stop the next time.

I rolled over as quietly as possible, pushing myself up and out of the bed as I tried not to wake Katie. I had to put an end to Darren’s war against everything I held dear. My chest felt tight as I paced beside the bed, casting a few glances at the sleeping blonde. I couldn’t take it; if something worse happened to her, or Oliver, or even James Dreyton. The guilt would be too much. None of them deserved this. None of them deserved to suffer because of my existence.

Reaching for the jacket I’d thrown on the foot of the bed, I slipped it on, quietly making my way out of the room. Somehow I managed to close the door to my room without any sound, steps careful as I made my way to the stairs and down them. Oliver’s door had been shut; hopefully, he was catching up on the rest I was certain he’d lost too much of.

Another growl of thunder sounded in the distance as I made my way to the back door, pulling the hood of the jacket up as I exited onto the deck. The raindrops danced constantly on the pool; surface perpetually distorted by the never-ending ripples it produced. The air, for a change during the day, wasn’t as heavy with humidity as it had been. That might have been a relief on any other day, but it didn’t seem to matter too terribly much in that moment.

The lack of traffic on the beach came as no surprise as I crossed the dunes, wind a bit more than a light breeze with the current state of the weather. It wasn’t hard to see the tide was currently out, expanse of beach before me a welcome realization. That would work well for later.

The ocean was a greyed navy under the cover of clouds, white crests of the waves more tumultuous than welcoming as the ocean seemed to churn somewhat more violently than normal. No one needed to be out in that today. Nothing good could come of it. My steps slowed a few feet back from where the tide could reach, glancing down briefly to note that the cloth of the jacket really wasn’t serving as much of a protectant from the steady rain; I could already feel dampness on my arms. But, I couldn’t bring myself to mind. It was hard to catch your death from standing in the rain when there wasn’t all that much time left to begin with.

Another rumble of thunder almost made me miss a shout from a distance; slowly turning to see a familiar figure trotting towards me, his white shirt soaked by the rain. Cal approached with the grace of a wild colt, fast and with little regard for how ridiculous he looked.

“Maggie, the hell are you doing out in the middle of the storm? What happened last night? I haven’t been able to get ahold of any of you!” He bent over a bit, wresting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. I waited quietly, until he looked back up at me.

“There was an incident with Katie. Someone tried to hurt her. They… vanished. Cops weren’t able to find anything.” It almost surprised me how emotionless my voice was as I spoke, offering Cal the bare minimum of what I could.

“Fuck—Is—Is she okay? Did they take her to the hospital?”

I shook my head a bit in response to the latter part. “She’s still sleeping. So is Oliver, I think. I don’t want to disturb them. They need the rest.”

Cal, for once, shut up for a brief time. He stood up then, eyeing me with an almost hesitant fixation. I merely stared back. We were both soaked, I watched a few steady water droplets fall from his nose.

“I… I knew something had happened, I just…” He ran a hand through his hair, shooting me a thoroughly perplexed look. “But, she’s okay, right? What about you?”

My gaze slowly moved from Cal, and back to the ocean before us, offering the slightest of shrugs. “…She’s going to be okay. I don’t know if she’ll want to come out, but. Maybe… if she wasn’t comfortable staying at the house tonight, you could try to take her elsewhere? She likes you. I think she trusts you.”

Cal’s periods of silence were increasingly unusual; I wasn’t going to question that though, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“We’ve got the family suite at the hotel downtown, I’m sure we could go there, if she wanted.”

“That would work. It’d be away from here, maybe give her a bit of peace of mind. I’ve got a feeling you wouldn’t do anything sleazy.” With a little nod, I pushed the soaked sleeves of the jacket up a bit, idly picking at my nails.

“What about you?”

I blinked a little at his question, keeping my eyes fixed on my nails. “What about me?”

“Are you just gonna stay in that house after that? Like it’s nothing?” He spoke slowly, almost like he was spelling things out for a child. I frowned a bit.

“I can handle myself.”

A sharp gust of wind gave us both a bit of a push, and I carefully tried to steady my footing. I could still feel Cal’s eyes on me, and I gave a slow look up. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the turn in his expression; usually light and carefree, his brow was now creased, lips turned downward in a slight frown as he studied me.

“People worry about you, y’know. And I know I don’t know you all that well, but, something’s off here, Maggie Walton.”

“Everyone I care about has died for the most part, and my best friend was attacked in her own bed last night. You’re damn right something is wrong. But I’m going to handle it.” I was almost surprised how matter-of-fact my voice came out, a bit hard, but in no way afraid. There was no point in fear.

“…What do you mean?” His question was laced with hesitance and uncertainty. I merely gave a small shrug, glancing back out towards the ocean.

“I mean I’m going to make it okay. For her, and everyone else. So just. Take her somewhere tonight that’s not here. I’m sure you know better than to mention this discussion to her, either. I’ll tell her you’re going to come get her later when she wakes up. See you, Cal.” There was no point in waiting for a response. I turned and made my way back up the beach; the grass of the dunes was practically on its side at the mercy of the wind. Lightening struck in the direction of the mainland.

I was dripping wet as I reentered the Dreyton’s house; the soft living room masked in the grey of the day. Even it seemed duller, muted, just like everything else in that weather. A small shiver rippled across my skin as I slumped towards the couch, not bothering to discard any of my drenched clothes before I curled up against the arm and pulled a blanket off the back of it. I was still tired; maybe I needed a bit of rest before the day got any later. Just a bit.

***

There was a dull throb in my head when I woke up the second time, and the distinct smell of grease infiltrating my nostrils. A low groan pulled from my throat as I tugged the damp blanket up a bit, a slight shiver running across my skin. The room was chilled, much like it had been my entire stay, but for once, I minded it. I craved a bit of warmth. There was a slight bit of effort involved as I pushed myself into a sitting position, slight pain in my neck from the discomfort of sleeping on the couch with it’s unfit pillows. Rolling my head a bit, I noted the light coming from the kitchen. I wanted dry clothes, and something for my head, but, curiosity got the better of me as I moved off the couch, taking a few slow steps towards the well-lit room.

Katie’s hair was up in a messy bun, her back to me as she stood in front of the stove. The smell of food was more prominent now; and I noted a plate of fried chicken on the counter behind her. I rubbed my eyes a bit, still shivering slightly.

“What time is it…?”

She jumped at the sound of my voice, whirling around with wide green eyes and a spoon in one hand. As soon as she took notice of me, she immediately relaxed, letting out a heavy sigh. My own gaze hovered on her throat; I knew there had been marks there this morning. Where were they now?

“Jesus, Maggie, you cant just sneak up on a woman like that!” She put her free hand on her chest as she spoke, giving her head a little shake as she turned back towards the stove. “And it’s a quarter til eight. You slept a good while.”

“What about you? How’s your throat? Er. Have you talked to Cal?”

She didn’t glance back at me as she spoke. “Maggie, you know just as well as I do makeup is a godsend. I didn’t want to look at those marks. So I covered them. And I called him back after I woke up. He... offered to get me out of the house for the night. I told him I’d think about it.”

That wasn’t exactly the response I wanted to hear. I couldn’t help but frown as I reached up, rubbing at my eyes a bit. “I mean… why wouldn’t you take that opportunity? I can’t imagine sleeping here after that would be easy.”

“I slept all day. Not like I’m gonna sleep much tonight, y’know.”

“No, but…” I bit my lip, shivering a bit. She didn’t need to be here; especially not here and awake all night. It wasn’t helping my head much, either. A heavy sigh pulled from me as I exited the kitchen doorway and retreated upstairs. I had to get out of the chilled clothes I’d slept in. A small glance before I entered my room left me to note that Oliver’s door was open, and from what I could see, empty. Well, that was one out of two gone. Now if only I could convince Katie to leave as well.

One dry change of clothes later and a few pills downed to hopefully ease my headache, and I was back in the kitchen, carefully sliding onto a bar stool as Katie busied herself fixing two plates. She had made mac and cheese, as well as green beans to accompany the chicken I had seen previously. With a little smile she slid a plate towards me. Even if I wasn’t exactly feeling up to par, it smelled fantastic. We ate in silence, both of us more than a little hungry—given it had been almost 24 hours since either of us had eaten.

“What’s making you second guess going with Cal, exactly?” I spoke up towards the end of our meal, as I scraped the last bit of cheese sauce from the plate with my fork. She offered a small shrug, sliding off of her barstool and over to the sink. Katie began the cleanup process as I waited for a reply, joining her shortly thereafter.

“What about you?”

I blinked, drying off the plate she handed me before putting it away. “I mean, what about me?”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here, alone,” she muttered with a frown, moving to scrape what was left of the mac and cheese into the trash before tackling the pot.

“It’s not like I’ll be sleeping; I did that all day. Plus I mean, Oliver will be around I expect, so.” I shrugged a bit; nonchalance was essential to convincing her it would be alright to leave me alone. I just hoped she believed it.

“He had to take Mr. Dreyton to the airport so, I’m not exactly sure when he’s gonna be back.” Katie bit her lip. “We could always have a girls night, you know? Me and you. Hit the town or something.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Katie very much did not want to spend the night in the house, and she also didn’t want to be alone. But… she was also hesitant to leave me. That hurt on some level. I kept my gaze on the dishes as I dried them off.

“I’m not really feeling up to going out. And I know you don’t want to be here. I get you’re worried but, would it really be fair to leave Oliver here by himself when he came back?” I knew the question was going to cut her; maybe that was what I needed to do to get her to agree to leave.

The silence that fell assured me that something was running through her mind, and I spared her a hesitant side-glance. Her lips were set in a firm line, green eyes boiling with hurt and frustration. I hated the idea of doing this to her, but I was running out of options.

“If you don’t wanna tell me exactly what’s going on between you and him, that’s fine. But I won’t pretend I like it or I understand when he still won’t—“ she cut herself off with a deep breath, shaking her head as she turned off the sink. “Why do I feel like I’m an outsider looking in when it comes to y’all, Maggie?”

I couldn’t manage a response to that; I couldn’t properly explain the fixation I had with Oliver because of his brother; and lately, I was beginning to wonder if that was the entire basis for it. My silence held as I dried my hands. I had been keeping things from her; we had both been keeping her at a distance, me far more unknowingly than Oliver.

“You know what, I think I will go with Cal.”

The relief I felt at that statement was muted, thinking more of just how I’d hurt her in the process to get the result I needed; and how much more I was going to hurt her before the morning came. I couldn’t tell her what I was going to do was for her sake and everyone else’s, I couldn’t afford to let her know she was one of the few things I had left in the world that I was willing to do anything to protect. I closed my eyes, trying my best to swallow the lump forming in my throat.

She left the kitchen without another word.

***

Katie hadn’t spoken to me before she left the house. I faintly listened to the sound of Cal’s car departing our driveway as I sat in my room, eyes focused on the moon gleaming brightly on the ocean beyond the dunes. The rain had stopped at some point while I slept through the afternoon, night skies now clear.

It was half past eleven when I started my letters, just after Katie and Cal had left for the mainland. They were something I should have put time and effort into—but time wasn’t exactly on my side. It was hard to keep myself together, fumbling through apologies and explanations all the while. Both letters were hard to write; I owed Katie the truth, and I owed Oliver genuine emotion. There would be no letter for James; I had panicked enough writing the two at hand, constantly listening for the sound of Oliver’s car pulling into the garage and just hoping for an ounce more of time. I left them on the bedside table when I was done, heaving a deep sigh. I still felt a bit unpleasant, headache hovering like the buzz of a gnat by your ear that wouldn’t go away. But then again, unpleasant seemed fitting, all things considered. I was going to hurt people, even if all I wanted was to protect them.

The clock read 12:18 as I slipped out of the room for what was the last time, making sure to lock the door behind me before making my way downstairs. The house was still quiet; the faint exhale of the air conditioning the only sound to be heard. It felt wrong to leave it all like this, without a proper goodbye to anyone. But I wasn’t sure what other options I had.

On the back deck, the night air still smelled of rain and saltwater, calming and pleasant in its own way. I wanted to hold on to that scent; the feeling of calm that came with it. I wanted to hold on to the reassurance that I was doing what was right for everyone close to me. My first steps were slow and hesitant; edging myself carefully onto the dunes and finally to the coast; the sand was cool and hard, still soaked with the day’s rain. The water’s edge was close as well; high tide was finally here. Even in the dark, with the gleam of the full moon on the ocean, the slight tilt and pull of the waves and ocean were enough to assure me the current was at work. I stood for just a moment to study it before slowly turning to make my way down the beach. For a change; the breeze kept my hair out of my face, the Windjammer in the opposite direction as the flickering flash of the lighthouse from the next island grew in the distance, beckoning me to my destination.

The minutes ticked by slowly as I made my way down the beach, keeping just beyond the reach of the waters as they pulled up and down over the shore. I’d have my share of water soon enough; for the moment, I wanted to be dry. I picked at my nails until they were nothing while I walked; I’d always hated how sensitive the skin on my fingertips got if I ripped them too short, but that didn’t so much matter then, I supposed. Just a little longer, and it would all be over.

Eventually I came to the point where I could no longer walk straight ahead without finding myself in the ocean; here the island began to curve, the expanse of water seeming only a small swim between where I stood and the far island. Even in the dark, though, the waters were visibly choppy.

James and Oliver had both warned me of the dangers of Breach Inlet; it seemed fitting to use the dangerous waters as a tool in this instant. If they were as dangerous as I was led to believe, perhaps they’d never have to worry about finding my body. I wasn’t sure if that would be better or worse.

The tide had completely come in, but, the heavy rush of the current out proved it was beginning it’s slow cycle out. That was going to work in my favor for this. It should be quick, it should be easy. Let it take me, out and under. Let it end in the dark, cool waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

I couldn’t help but hesitate by the water’s edge, waves gently lapping at my toes as I stared across to the darkened island that didn’t seem too terribly far away. If what I was told was true, there was absolutely no way I’d make it that far. Good. Successfully getting across would entirely defeat the purpose. I’d still exist, Katie, Oliver, and James would still be in danger. My steps were slow as I began to make my way into the water. There was no way to be sure this would work, but I had at least to believe that. Without me around, Darren wouldn’t have a purpose. Maybe… Maybe though that would put things to an end. That was the only hope I had to hold on to.

I could feel the pull as the water reached my knees; slowing my steps even further as I made each move carefully, deliberately. It was cool, and utterly insistent, much like a persistent wind below the water’s surface. The breeze in my hair seemed nothing in contrast. My heart felt strangely frantic, dull throb of in my head pulsing with it. At least that too, would be gone soon enough. The water was just above my waist when the current fully took hold, and I found myself unable to keep my footing any longer. There was no relief though, when it did. Absolutely none when I realized regaining my footing was entirely out of the question, and the rip current here truly had all control.

Why I had expected it to be easy, I wasn’t sure. I was acting in desperation after all; and peace of mind in my actions wasn’t there when I thought it would be. The pull of the current was rougher than I had imagined, panic exploding to the forefront of my mind as I actually struggled against the waters. I had expected something swift and perhaps a bit calmer, not the staggering almost rough tug of the riptide. I had pictured a water slide, fast and beyond your control, propelling you towards a pool at it’s end where the water that took you under was actually inviting. I had though letting it take me was going to be an option; but the swift currents of the water between the islands didn’t actually care what those who were caught in it wanted. The water itself seemed a monster of the deep, the true kraken was the currents of the ocean as it went out, water tugging at you like the unstoppable, inescapable tentacles of the creature of many a lore. I was going, and changing my mind wasn’t an option it was going to allow me.

I tasted the salt water as I let out a little whimper, coughing as it filled my throat and lungs, all the while struggling to pull myself from the ocean’s relentless grip. This hadn’t been what I planned. I was a fool to expect it to be easy or pleasant. I was going to die in a panic, swallowed by the dark Atlantic Ocean and it’s fearsome pull. The kraken truly was going to pull me to Davey Jones’ Locker. There was nothing to grasp for, nothing to stop my inevitable decent below it’s tantric surface.The choppy waters finally covered my head like an all too suffocating blanket.

What hadn’t been expected was the tug on my arm that wasn’t that of the water’s cycle, the feel of a rough hand with a sudden and steely hold on my wrist, tugging me vehemently against the current. I let out a stream of bubbles, inhaling more salt water as I was pulled away from the depths, and up. The hand pulled me in, circling my waist as I was forced to break the water’s surface, sputtering and hacking as a stream of curses became more and more apparent. His hold on me was almost too tight, fingers pressed bitingly into my side as I fumbled to grasp the situation at hand. The world was a blur; eyes burning from the sting of the ocean.

“Maggie—you—I am not letting you— god dammit Maggie—“

I processed the alarm in his voice, even as I continued to sputter, being drug along towards the shore like a ragdoll. Even with my eyesight a blurred, stinging mess, I was more than clear Oliver Dreyton had somehow found me. There was a momentary shot of relief, soon followed by a bitter, unwanted pain. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t how—

“I did not save you from my fucking mother only to have you kill yourself—This is not happening, Magnolia Walton—I—You are going to live—You are going to do that for me, you owe me that much—“

The brief thought of struggling against him suddenly vanished, and I felt all will to move dissipate as the sudden burst of shock hit me. His words felt like a slap to the face after a manic spell; and they rung in my ears like an echo in a cave.

I stared fixedly at him, barely registering he’d pulled us to shallow water, his grip on me finally lessened as he heaved for breath, curses flowing between gasps as he stared down at the water. I hadn’t realized I’d taken ahold of his shirt with a trembling hand, gripping it with the same force he’d had on me only mere moments earlier.

“…S…Simon…?” The name caught in my throat; the name I’d thought about way too much in the last few months. Maybe I had died; maybe the current had taken me under far more swiftly than I’d anticipated. Maybe this was my afterlife.

But the boy in front of me slowly looked up, an undeniable recognition in his eyes at the sound of that name. He didn’t offer a reply, just. Kept his gaze steadily fixed on my own. I felt something I hadn’t in months in that instant; a brief, bright spark of hope.

“You,” I breathed, fingers still clasped tightly to his soaked shirt. It couldn’t be; it had to be some kind of sick twisted joke. I was alive, and this was a trick to stop me from further attempting to put and end to that fact. But at the same time I couldn’t fully believe that.

Slowly, shaking I reached up and pulled the water-splattered glasses from his face. Those eyes watched me with a biting familiarity, clear and blue, full of pain and something else, something I couldn’t decipher. I found myself tracing the fingertips of my free hand along his face; he closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. It was warm, a feeling I was unaccustomed to relating to the boy I believed was long gone. “You can’t be him; you’re lying.”

He opened his eyes slowly, their gaze set steadily on me. “It’s really me, I’m here. I promise.”

I remembered the last promise he had made me; it ended with him breaking it by his own admission, and breaking my heart in the process. It wasn’t the breeze that caused goose bumps to erupt across my wet skin then as I stared up at him, it was that memory, that pain, and the realization that there might be a chance he was yet again standing in front of me.

A disbelieving chuckle lodged itself in my throat, coming out more as a choked sob. “You’re not very good at keeping those.”

His fingers wrapped around mine, giving them a light squeeze. A frown had begun to take up residence on his face as we stood there, ankle deep in the rising and falling tide in the dark of the night. The wind pulled at his drenched curls, barely swaying them. I wanted more than anything to believe it was him standing before me, not Oliver, but it was so hard, so impossible. Wasn’t this just a reach to stop me from acting further than I had?

“Please don’t be a brat, Maggie,” He sighed. “Look, just ask me anything, I’ll prove it.”

Brat. My breath caught in my throat. How many times had Simon called me a brat?

“You threw—“

“Books,” he interrupted. “I threw books at you. Big, little, heavy, light, lots and lots of books.”

“The university’s play, I—”

The corner of his lip twitched upward. “Cordelia, you got the role of Cordelia. I suggested it. The others didn’t suit you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see how it turned out.”

“We went to the zoo and--“

“You hate emus. While we were there you told me about how you lost your mother on a January afternoon when she lost control of the car and propelled you two into a tree. You blamed yourself for that, just like you blame yourself for everything, even when it’s not your fault. After which we saw Darren’s car being towed from the river,” He paused. “And he’s been here, following you. He tried to drown you in the pool, you saw him in Katie’s room, and other places. He thinks it’s your fault.”

It really was him, Simon, my Simon standing before me. I felt the tears forming as I let out a ragged breath and collapsed against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me to him. He buried his face in my hair, pressing his lips against the top of my head lightly. I didn’t care he was drenched, that the scent of the ocean clung to him with no intention of letting go. I didn’t care that he was in his brother’s body. It was still him; it was still the boy I thought I had lost forever. He was warm, and he was right in front of me.

“I’m not going to let you go this time, no matter what happens,” He stated gently. “I couldn’t sit back and just watch anymore, I’m sorry that it took me so long, Maggie.”

There was a nibbling discomfort that came into my mind with his words amidst all the relief and ecstasy, and slowly I pushed back, examining him in silence. His last sentence lodged itself at the forefront of my mind as the sound of the tide lapping against the shore swam around us.

“How long?” I asked, lump forming in my throat.

His brow furrowed as he looked down at me. “How long what?”

“How long have you been here, in him?”

Simon hesitated then, watching me uncertainly, regretfully. I felt his fingers on my cheek, icy eyes averting themselves to the island across the inlet. I felt a steely grip clench my stomach.

“Since ‘Oliver’ woke up,” He admitted softly.

That was the instant the pleasant sorrow I had allowed myself to feel for a few brief seconds vanished. A fire seemed to catch inside of me, violent heat spreading through every inch of my body as I processed his words. It was a painful rage, bitter and haunting that propelled me back two steps from him. Involuntarily I felt my fingers ball into a fist and before either one of us could reflect on what was happening Simon was reeling backwards as it made contact with his cheek. He fell—presumably out of shock, not my right hook—into the Atlantic waters with a look of utter surprise. His hand reached up to the place where I had hit him as I stood shaking above.

“Don’t. You. Dare. Ask what that was for,” I hissed, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. I could feel a dull throb beginning to form in my hand, and the slow realization that the throb of my head had never fully vanished, it was returning with a vengeance of it’s own. “You’ve been here this entire time, and you just let me suffer through this, even though you knew how upset I was, how much I needed you? How could you? I spent months thinking you were dead, I visited your grave at least once a week to talk to you, because I missed you and I thought I would never see you again, yet here you’ve been the entire time? You are unbelievable, Simon Dreyton, and you’ve had that coming for such a long time.”

“Maggie I’m so—“

“Sorry? If you were genuinely sorry you wouldn’t have done this to me,” I shouted, quaking with sobs. “You are an asshole. This entire time you’ve been here, letting me think I’m horrid for seeing so much of you in Oliver, feeling disgusted with myself for projecting my wants of you onto him, watching me lose my mind. I needed you and you just let me…”

I dropped to my knees, crying. This wasn’t fair, this wasn’t right. He had tricked me, hidden things from me, and lied to me. But why? What had it all been for? Just to watch me suffer and squirm? I heard the water sloshing around me seconds before I felt his hand on my shoulder, I flinched and slapped him away.

“Don’t touch me,” I spat, recoiling. I could see the hurt glistening in his eyes as he sat frozen, fingers outstretched. Even after learning what I had, that still pained me. But not enough to forgive him. I stood shakily, stepping back from him as I wrapped my arms around myself. I was still dripping, still shivering from the evening ocean. “I need time. I can’t…I can’t do this right now. Not after this, knowing you’ve been here this entire time, I just can’t.”

“Maggie, please don’t—“

“Don’t what? Don’t leave you like you left me?” Simon fell silent at that, my words biting and stinging every mark they were intended to. He deserved this. He deserved to suffer a fraction of what I had in his absence. I took a few steps back, unable to so much as shake the bitter glare I settled him with. “You don’t have the right to ask that of me.”

I turned then, pulling myself—trembling—from the waters. I wasn’t sure what the cause was then; cold, anger, or perhaps even the near-death experience. Perhaps all of it.

I didn’t once look back to see if Simon Dreyton was behind me as I made my way back up the beach that night.