Page 110 of The Wild Beneath

Over the bow he plays. The notes carry across the water like dragonflies, ripples of sound like the skitter of wings. Nothing but him, the waves on the hull, the song in the dark.

Is it possible, so young, to know exactly where you belong? At the same time, he has to do what’s expected of him. Doesn’t he? For a while, at least.

But Aiden has always been one-degree different.

He stops playing and reaches his hand down. He waits, in the dark, fingertips in the water. If he’s patient enough, he knows, she’ll come.

He’s done this so many times, over so many summers. Ever since he could drive a boat on his own, he was out here at this same spot, waiting.

An almost imperceptible wave builds off the stern.

These secret visits have left Aiden with an unspoken belief: The sea is awake. She knows a vastness he will never touch. Centuries of life lie beneath him, around him. The sea governs with an undergirding sort of power. Even if he’s a grain of sand in the scheme of things, he feels like he’s seen.

A rustling crosses the water’s surface, until finally, a long, grey back emerges from the inky water beside Aiden’s boat. Then, a plume of air. He has memorized the exact shape of her breathing, like a signature.

He’s never told a soul about this. Words would cause the power to leak out of these early morning communions.

Aiden places the harmonica next to him on the bench, then rests his palm on her skin. Another puff of breath, a canopy of vapour. A roll, then an enormous black eye peers into the centre of him.

Soon he’ll be in the arms of the city, far from the ocean. He wonders if she knows. A moan in the water, a click. She still sings. Minutes pass until the whale dives back under.

Aiden pulls up his hand, the sheen of water, his palm empty.

The sun starts to rise into a lilac sky, an egg yolk on the flat horizon. Underneath the surface of the water, something anchors him. But it’s fleeting. As he motors back toward Hale’s Landing and the waiting ferry, Aiden can’t quite hold on to it.

Chapter 44

Now

In order to push through her next ER shift, Annie drinks too much coffee.

Another week has passed. She keeps daydreaming of a life with Walker—­waking up to his gentle grey eyes, drinking morning coffee off the bow of their fictional sailboat-home. That time they had sex—­was sex even the right word forit?—­in the berth ofPolarisso many years ago surfaces obsessively in her mind. When she relives it, half of her sparks with longing and the other flips inside out with shame. She’s with Evan now.He’sthe one that knows her. And the more likely reality is that Walker is dead and Annie is delusional and should probably see a psychiatrist.

If Evan looks too closely, he will see this insanity, won’t he? Everything Isaac has ever told him about her will be correct.

She’s not ready for that. So she’s been avoiding Evan in a way she never has before—­stealing away to the beach, getting up earlier than him, or drowning herself in work.

It’s her seventh shift in a row. In the rapid assessment zone, the place is a mess with all of the usual things. Patients arrive with their wound infections and fractures. Head injuries,toddlers with coughs. Annie moves from room to room. She forgets to drink water for the entire afternoon.

“Honestly, Annie,” Hazel says, looking at the nursing station monitor. Annie clicks the next chart and MACLEOD shows up under bed 18.

“Did the nurse already discharge bed 3?” Annie asks.

Hazel lowers her glasses. Her short grey hair is styled in curling-iron ringlets. Her lips are expertly painted with lipstick. “Go home, already,” she says.

Annie starts reading the next triage notes. She’s not present. What mistakes is she making? Several times today, she ended up in the wrong room with the wrong patient or found herself in the stockroom but forgot why she was there. She picked the worst choice from the vending machine at lunch and ate half of it anyway: dry ham on cardboardy bread.

“Just a few more. The waiting room is packed,” Annie says.

“I worry about you.” Hazel gives her that look. “You don’t look well, honey. What happened when you saw the doctor?”

“They gave me some iron.”

“And?”

“My hemoglobin came up.”

Hazel puts her glasses on top of her head. “Maybe you should take some time off. You never take vacation.”