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Back outside, Hana finds Caleb on one of the benches near the pool. He’s unevenly burned, only the sides of his legs red, like they’ve been slapped.

She presses a glass of water into his hand. “Thought you might need a drink.” She glances at the phone on his lap. “What are you up to?”

“Morbid stuff. Looking at photos of Bea.” His voice cracks.

Hana nods. She’d done the same last night. As if looking at images of her sister would somehow bring her back, make her real again.

“How are you bearing up?”

Caleb shrugs, taking a sip of his drink, but his fingers are trembling around the glass as he brings it to his mouth. “It’s like torture, isn’t it? Someone’s idea of a sick joke. All this loveliness while...” He gestures around him and Hana takes it in: the turquoise water glimmering in the sunshine, the pine branches above, shifting slightly in the breeze. It’s true. It’s as if this natural beauty is mocking them.

“Apparently not for much longer. There’s a storm on the way.” She gestures up. “Clouds are coming in.” Dark bubbles of cumulus clouds are dotting the sky. Hana’s glad. It’s what the summer, this island, and all of them need: a release.

He follows her gaze before looking back to the villa. “Where are Jo and Maya?”

“In their rooms. Don’t think anyone feels like socializing.” Hana takes a seat at the table by the pool, tips the parasol back so she’s fully in the shade.

Moving to sit beside her, Caleb puts his phone down. He hooks his feet around the legs of the table, but seems unsure of what to do with his arms, awkwardly folding and unfolding them. “And you? How are you feeling?”

“Probably the same as you. It takes me back to that moment with Liam, when the world seemed to... stop. The disorientation of it all. You start thinking of everything before that moment as a different place somehow. The world after... it’s as if it’s shifted on its axis.”

Caleb is silent for a minute before meeting her gaze. “Bea wanted to be there for you, you know, after Liam. She knew she’d let you down.” His voice is thick. “I think she planned to speak to you about it at some point, but never got the chance.”

Hana blinks. “I was surprised. She just seemed to drop off the radar.” She shrugs. “But it wasn’t just her. Most people did. I’ve never felt more alone.” She suddenly finds it hard to swallow, as if her throat has constricted. “It made me question everything, everybody. If they couldn’t be there for me after something like that, then when would they ever be?”

Caleb inclines his head. “I get it, and I’m not trying to make excuses for her, but sometimes I think Bea struggled seeing you like that, with that level of emotion.”

“Did she ever say why?”

“Not explicitly, but I know she was traumatized by the fire, what happened to Sofia. When Liam died, it triggered something, I think. I’m pretty sure that’s why she couldn’t let herself get close to you at the time.”

Behind him a messy circle of insects are flitting around midair, an unruly gang with nowhere to go. Caleb flaps them away with the back of his hand.

Hana nods. “I think we were all traumatized, but when you’re a kid, you don’t really process it. People think you’ve gotten over it, and then something happens as an adult and it all comes back as big and heavy as it was before. People thought Maya coped well, but I can tell she’s struggling, even now. Jo, too, all the frenetic activity...”

He looks at her sideways. “How’s she holding up after Seth?”

She shrugs. “Not good, but I suppose that’s to be expected.”

Caleb nods, opening his mouth and then closing it again. He’s summoning up the courage to say something . Finally, he meets her gaze. “So do we know any more about what happened?”

“Not really, the detective didn’t give much detail.”

Another awkward pause. “It’s just that last night, Jo and Seth—they were arguing. My room’s next to theirs. It sounded pretty heated.”

“Could you hear what it was about?”

He pulls at the peak of his cap, clearly reluctant to reveal more.

“You can say, you know,” she interjects. “I’m under no illusions that I’ve got the perfect family.”

“When they were talking, I heard Seth say something about Jo leaving the villa.”

“The night Bea arrived?”

“Yes.” He swallows jerkily. “It sounded like ‘You’ve got to tell them it was you who left the villa. If they find out another way...’?”

Hana looks at him, dumbstruck.

It was Jo who left the villa the night Bea died.

All this time, a question mark over it, and it was her.

“You’re sure?”

“Certain.” As Caleb meets her eye, a shared awareness passes between them: they’ve interpreted what he overheard in the same way.