Page 86 of Beach Bodies

‘Why are you here now?’ I say, furious. ‘Why now when you didn’t have the fucking balls to do it then?’

‘I couldn’t let the story go,’ he says, fast, desperate, like he knows this is his last chance to tell me. ‘I kept working on it, behind the scenes. Then people started dying. By the third death, I got my hands on a staff list and saw your name. I talked to my boss again. She told me if I ran the story, she’d end my career. So I quit. I bought audio equipment and started a podcast. I used Season One to pay my way here and tell the story I was supposed to tell five years ago. You were the top of my suspect list from the start. The problem is,’ he pauses. ‘Well, like I said at the hotel. I fell for you.’

My heart drums a furious beat. Why does it hurt so much to hear that falling in love with me was aproblem?

I give one final, angry shove downward on Serena’s chest.Thirty.

Immediately, there’s a coughing sound, like my anger just achieved what my constancy could not. Serena rolls to her side as seawater spurts out of her mouth. Her eyes open, dark slits, blinking in confusion.

‘What happened?’ she says in a wet rasp.

I look at Daniel. My insides are burning with emotions too strong to name. He looks at me.

I brought her back. There was no murder tonight.Now what?

Daniel lays a hand on Serena’s forehead like one might a child, and leans over her.

‘Lily just saved your life.’

‘Oh.’ Serena’s eyes slip closed again. She lies motionless on her side, but she’s breathing.

‘Lily…’ says Daniel. I can hear the agony in that single word. ‘What am I supposed to fucking do now?’

I almost spit out,Go back and fucking fix what you broke.

But of course, he can’t. And neither can I. Neither of us can fix the mistakes we made five years ago. He can’t run the story when he was supposed to. I can’t go back and glue Jessica back together.

And maybe… maybe I wouldn’t have been able to.

My heart pounds and pounds over this new thought.

Maybe loving someone doesn’t always mean you can save them.

Something opens in me. My shoulders sag as the anger floods out, leaving an empty, dark hole. All that seems to be left of me is negative space. The things I lost– the woman I lost.

Daniel is still looking at me with pleading in his eyes. What is he supposed to do? I can’t answer that. No one can but him. We each have our crosses to bear. Our failures, living like old injuries in our bodies. Pain that will never quite leave.

‘That’s up to you,’ I say.

His face is tortured.

His eyes say,If I had told the story five years ago—

I know, I send him.

And if I hadn’t emailed him? He never would have noticed a few deaths at a distant Caribbean resort.

I touch his arm, and even now, under these insane circumstances, I feel the electricity between us. The powerful energy of our potential.

‘No one made me do any of this, Daniel. This was my choice.’

He shakes his head, like some part of him is trying to deny that all of this is happening.

‘It’s OK,’ I say softly. I reach up and touch his cheek, surprised to find it wet with tears.

I feel my power over him in this moment. He’s gutted, weak, guilty for betraying his own conscience. Could I convince him to pull the plug on the podcast? If I promise him my killing days are over? Could we live together happily ever after? Could we pretend I’d never done this? New chapter, don’t look back?

In the distance, I hear the sound of an ambulance siren, and I know this is almost over. I’ll be leaving the Riovan one way or another, and I won’t be coming back.