Page 77 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

“You take the bed. I know you need the rest.”

“No,” I said. “You need it more than I do.”

“I wouldn’t sleep,” she murmured. “I would just…”

Her voice faded.

I walked over and crouched beside her.

“Talk to me,” I said. “I know there’s so much you’re keeping inside, but you can always talk to me.” I managed a small smile. “I’m the only other person on this island.”

She didn’t smile back.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she said weakly.

I nodded and walked to the wardrobe.

Behind me, I heard her crying again.

I pulled out the clean sheets and started changing the bed. As I threw back the blanket, a bug crawled across the mattress.

“I’m not taking this bed,” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

She let out a tired breath.

“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

She slowly pushed herself to her feet and walked over. The second she spotted the bugs, a quiet scream escaped her mouth.

“No.” She took a step back. “I’ll stick to the floor.”

She looked at me, trying to work out where she was going to sleep. She’d just refused the bed, but her eyes betrayed her.

“There is only one clean sheet,” I said, moving against the wall and leaving enough space for her beside me.

“No,” she said, pacing across the floor. “I’m not tired.”

“Blue,” I said.

“Don’t call me that. I have a name.” Her voice sharpened.

“Blue,” I repeated, just to tease her.

She marched over, crouched in front of me, and smacked my shoulder.

“Stop it.”

“I will if you lie down and at least try to sleep.”

She sighed and slowly lay down, turning to face me.

The lighthouse sat in silence. Moonlight spilled through the window, washing over her face until every freckle stood out against her skin. I reached up and traced a finger gently across the bridge of her nose, counting them again.

“Still thirty-three,” I said.

“Thirty-three what?” she asked, opening one eye.

“Freckles.” I chuckled. “I counted them the day we met, when we were just kids.”