Stanley aims the light at the ceiling. I get a grip on mine and do the same, as does Lloyd. We shine our beams around the ceiling. There’s one long crack down the center.

  “Was that there before?” I ask.

  “Since the day we moved in,” Lloyd says.

  We continue to search with our crisscrossing beams. Nothing else seems out of place. No water. No cracks. No crumbling plaster.

  “It looks okay, right?” I ask.

  “No new damage, apparently,” Stanley says. “I checked the leak in the bedroom. It’s still dripping, but it’s not any worse.”

  “Okay, so…” I straighten up even more. “We’re okay, right? We made it through the roof coming off none the worse for wear.”

  “There’s good news,” Stanley says. “It didn’t sound like it smashed the rest of the building up too bad when it came off.” I’m surprised to hear Stanley say this, since it sounded awful to me. “Sometimes a building as big as this one can withstand that kind of trauma.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming….”

  “But,” Lloyd says, “this is a problem. The roof was our protection from the elements. It was sheltering the rest of the building. With that gone…”

  “It means we’re going to be hammered on top,” Stanley says. “Rain, wind, debris hitting the interior of the top floor. Which is going to compromise the structure if the wind doesn’t let up. And I don’t think that’s happening. Not anytime soon.”

  “What can we do?” I ask.

  “We need to see how much of the roof came off, how much is left,” Stanley says.

  “It’s pitch-dark. What are you going to see?” Lloyd asks.

  “What’s the other choice? Wait around?” I ask. “Hope we’re through the worst of it?”

  “Oh, we’re not through the worst of it,” Lloyd says.

  Lloyd’s words are shocking. It’s like he threw a bucket of cold water in my face. We’re not through the worst of it? As if to prove him right, the building begins to creak and groan again.

  Something wet hits the top of my head. I brush it off, but it’s quickly followed by another drop. “Shit,” I say.

  “I felt it too,” Stanley says. “This building is going to get awfully soggy awfully fast.”

  Forty-Eight

  The pounding and howling increase above us.

  The hurricane shutters and apartment door rattle like they’re about to fly away from the building.

  I’ve never heard anything so loud in my life.

  “This is landfall,” Lloyd says. “It’s coming ashore—and it sounds like it’s right over us.”

  “What should we do?” I ask.

  “What can we do?” Stanley says. “Get back in the hall and wait.”

  “Lloyd?”

  He shakes his head. “You two go on ahead. We’ll be okay.”

  I feel like more should be said, like I should be trying harder to convince him. But sometimes we come face-to-face with unmovable forces. Maybe they’re natural or maybe they’re human. Lloyd and Catalina are an unmovable force. Banded together right here in the living room of a crumbling building.

  They’ve made up their minds, and I can’t—and ultimately don’t want to—sway them.

  Stanley crawls back to the hallway, and I follow.

  We’re all packed in—cheek to cheek and thigh to thigh. Nina and Kiara scoot down, opening a space for me next to Mackenzie, Jordan on her other side. I gladly take it. Hazel and Ethan are across from me. Sawyer grabs a bag of peanuts and starts eating.

  “I eat when I get nervous,” he says.

  The noise above us is so loud we have to shout to be heard.

  The air grows closer, ranker. There’s no air-conditioning, no relief from the sticky humidity. Everyone sweats out their anxiety. We’re all drenched with fear. The tight space smells like a locker room. My body has never smelled so fetid and overripe.

  Everyone has been using the same bathroom. The scent of urine oozes through the door and into the hallway.

  Mackenzie huddles next to me, rests her head on my shoulder. She says something I can’t make out.

  I lean close, whisper in her ear, “What did you say?”

  She says the word “Mom,” but I miss the rest. She leans closer. “I know all about…you know, you and Mom.”

  “We’re okay, honey. Really.”

  “I mean…” She says something else I can’t hear.

  I look past her, at Jordan, who is listening to Hazel. I’m pretty sure she can’t hear anything Hazel is saying, but she’s humoring her.

  “What?”

  “You know, Mom and the guy at work…the affair thing.”

  “That’s not really an affair, Kenzie.”

  “I know. Mom told me everything.”

  My cheeks flush. And not from the heat. I do love how close Jordan and Mackenzie are. But not all the time, not on those rare occasions when the lines blur between parent and friend. I’d prefer Mackenzie not know all the details of our lives. I’d rather not be talking to my daughter about our marriage. “It’s—I don’t want you to think bad of Mom. Or either of us. It’s…”

  “Complicated?”

  “Yes, complicated.”

  “I get it, Dad. Really. I’m not taking sides.” She lifts her thumb, chews on a loose piece of skin. “Like…well, Mom might kill me if I tell you this, but it’s relevant, okay? Promise to listen to the whole thing?”

  My chest tightens. “Of course. What whole thing?”

  “Well, like, that guy, the one from work—the emotional affair guy…” Mackenzie swings her head around, checks to make sure Jordan can’t hear her. When she sees her mom occupied with Hazel, she turns back to me, leaning even closer. “I know for a fact that dude reached out to Mom again. Like a week ago or so.”

  “He did?” The tightness in my chest turns to burning. Hot. Irrational.

  “Yeah, Mom was really upset about it. She was all, you know, distraught.”

  “She didn’t tell me.”

  “Dad, some news isn’t the kind you share long-distance. Even I know that.”

  “Okay. So, this asshole reached out again?”

  “He did. The point is, Dad, that Mom gave him a hard no. Like, she really shut that down. It’s like a stress test. Like that time they made Grandpa run on that treadmill to see if he’d croak?”

  “An indelicate but apt analogy.”

  “But you and Mom didn’t croak. You’re still going. That’s why we’re down here.” She looks at the ceiling. “Enjoying a hurricane together.”

  “You wanted to see the ocean.”

  “That too. But mostly it was to show you how much we love you. And how Mom wants you back and all that. And, you know, she’s really sorry and shit.”

  The building groans, a long, low moaning sound, like it’s in its death throes.

  Everybody in the hall gasps and looks up.

  “That’s an ugly sound,” Sawyer says, loudly enough for all of us to hear.

  “We think the roof is gone,” Stanley says, always the bearer of good news. “The top of the building is getting pummeled. This storm’s probably chewing it up pretty good.”

  “Oh, no.” Nina puts a hand to her heart.

  “This is landfall,” I say. “The worst part. If we can ride this out, we’ll be in the eye. We just need to hang on.”

  Mackenzie asks, “How long does landfall last?”

  “The storm starts to lose power as soon it reaches land. No more water to fuel it.”

  “You didn’t answer me, Dad.”

  “I know. I’m not sure. Probably another hour or so. Something like that. But this is the worst part.”

  “So, what you’re saying is— Gosh, that’s loud.”

  Hazel starts waving her arms around, trying to get everyone’s attention. It takes a moment, but eventually everyone turns to her.

  When she speaks, her voice is surprisingly strong, managing to rise over the sound of the storm. “There is no reason for concern. I’ve studied the history of this island. The native people who originally lived here survived numerous storms, and they were never destroyed by the weather. They spoke invocations to protect the land, and I believe those invocations hold to this day.”

  “That’s fascinating, Hazel,” Ethan says.

  “Yeah,” Sawyer says, “I’d feel even better if the Indians built this building. They’d be more ethical about it than the owners.”

  Mackenzie says, “Is she serious, Dad?”

  “I think so, yes. I mean, serious for her. But I’m not sure if she’s, you know, completely attached to reality right now.”

  “She really freaked me out when she said she had a stalker.”

  “We don’t know what’s true and what isn’t with Hazel. But, seriously, Kenzie, don’t worry about Mom and me. We’re both to blame for what went wrong between us, and we’re figuring it out. We both love you very much.”

  “That’s sweet,” she says. “I love both of you. I’m not on anybody’s side either.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m an only child. It’s not like I can compare notes with a sibling.”

  “We only had one because we couldn’t top perfection.”

  “Aww. That’s bullshit, but sweet.” She claps her hand to her mouth. “Sorry about the cursing. You know, that’s one thing Mom doesn’t mind as much as you. I guess things are a little looser on that front.”

  “When the storm’s over and we’re out of here, you can curse as much as you want.”

  She gives me a thumbs-up. “I just thought of something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “This storm…it’s like a metaphor, right? For life? Sometimes you just have to ride things out and hope something’s still standing. Kind of like what you and Mom have been doing.”

  “Did you learn that in English class?”

  “I pay attention.”

  “I know all of this has affected you too.”

  She pats my knee. “I did miss you. There was no one to make lame jokes or kill spiders around the house.”

  “I know my place.” I put my arm around Mackenzie and pull her to me.

  Jordan looks at us, and I extend my arm, pulling her into our embrace. I hold them both close to me. I hope like hell we get out of here. I hope like hell Mackenzie gets to curse as much as she wants.

  I hope we’ll be all right.

  Hazel waves her arms again. This time she’s looking right at me.

  “What is it, Hazel?”

  “Jacob, I’ve been trying to ask you something, but you were ignoring me.”

  “I was talking to Kenzie, but you have my attention now. Ask away.”

  “I need to know if you found that gift I gave you.”

  Forty-Nine

  A long, loud groaning noise rises.

  It’s louder than the wind, louder than any other groan emitted by the building.

  We all duck. I lift my arms over Mackenzie and Jordan, shielding them as best I can. I’m not sure what good it will do if the entire building comes down on top of us. But I’m grasping at anything I can.

  “Dad, I’m scared.”

  I drop a hand to Mackenzie and squeeze her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. We all are.”

  “I’ve never been this scared.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “I think I’d be okay to never see the ocean now. I’d be cool with that.”

  “You’ll see the ocean for real someday,” Jordan says. “On a calm, sunny, beautiful day.”

  “I’ll take just being alive for my sixteenth birthday.”

  “You will be,” Jordan says, her voice as solid as a mountain. “You’ll get it all.”

  Jordan has always been that rock for our family. More than I ever could. That’s why her emotional affair or flirtation or whatever we decide to call it shocked me so much. If there was anything I could count on in life, it was Jordan. She was always it.

  But I’ve had to admit my own culpability as well. My disenchantment with my job. The grief over my dad’s death.

  My own fears and anxieties about getting older. Watching Mackenzie grow up faster and faster, like someone turned the dial up on time, causing it to pass at three or four times the normal rate.

  Everything terrified me.

  And when that happened, I closed myself off from Jordan. I left her on her own. Not physically but emotionally. Can I blame her for looking for support elsewhere?

  Hazel was right—do I really want to go back to the kind of job I had before? A career that left me so unfulfilled I stopped feeling things?

  Do I have a choice if I want to be with my family?

  The groaning stops suddenly. For now, we’re left only with what we’ve grown used to—the howling of the wind, the rattling of the hurricane shutters and the door. The plopping of water into the bucket in the other room.

  “Jacob? Jacob, are you listening?”

  Speaking of Hazel…

  “What is it, Hazel?”

  Ethan translates for her. “She wants to know if you found the going-away gift she gave you.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Hazel’s lower jaw swings open. She looks affronted like no one’s ever been affronted before. “What did you say, young man?”

  “Hazel, we’re riding out a Category Three hurricane in a building that’s falling down around us, and you’re worried about a gift?”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, young man.” Hazel sounds angry. Really angry. “Where is it?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. Probably in Dallas’ apartment.”

  “Go get it.”

  “That’s a crime scene, Hazel,” Stanley says. “You can’t just go poking around in there.”

  “You need to retrieve that gift, Jacob. Right now.”

  “Hazel, you’re out of your—”

  Something pokes me in the shoulder. I turn and catch a pleading look from Jordan. She’s asking me to calm down, to show empathy for Hazel. Who may not really know what year we’re in, much less fully grasp the danger of our situation.

  “Okay, Hazel. Whatever you say. I’ll be sure to get the gift.”

  “Please do. It’s very important, Jacob.”

  “I’ll take it home with me. I promise.”

  Hazel’s posture visibly relaxes. Like a force greater than the hurricane had been weighing her down, and now it’s lifted.

  “Sheesh,” I say, low enough so only Mackenzie hears me.

  “Dad,” she says, “I’m worried about something.”

  “Only one thing?”

  “It’s…Well, the roof is gone. There’s water coming in everywhere. Chances are, there’s water coming in all the apartments, right?”

  I know where she’s going.

  “I don’t like what you did to that dude, Dad. I don’t like that you locked him up. Tied him up. And now the roof is leaking. I mean—you said you’d check on him. Don’t you think you should? He’s been in there for hours. It’s been so loud. Imagine what it’s like if you’re all alone right now. And tied up.”

  Fifty

  I’ve been thinking the same thing. Tyler, whatever he may have done, is sitting tied to a chair in a dark apartment while a hurricane ravages the building.

  He can’t move. If anything fell near him—or even water dripped on him—he wouldn’t be able to get out of the way.

  Don’t I have to treat him like a human being? Even if he is guilty of killing my friend?

  “I hear you,” I say. “It shouldn’t be too big a deal to get down to Alaina’s apartment. Even with the wind—”

  “No.”

  Jordan’s voice cuts through the room with such force I nearly jump.

  When I catch her eye, she looks at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.

  “You’re not going out there. Not now,” she says. “You’ve heard what’s happening out there. And you heard what they’re saying on the radio. The storm is at its worst right now. You have a family here. And all these other people. You need to stay.”

  “Mom, that man could get hurt. Or die.”

  “He’s one person as opposed to all of us. And your dad matters more to us than anyone else.”

  “He’ll probably be fine, Kenzie,” I say.

  But my voice lacks conviction, even to my own ears. A vise grip closes around my heart, squeezing until it feels like it’s going to burst like a grape.

  I’d be sick—forever—if something happened to Tyler.

  I don’t even know for sure if he’s guilty of anything.

  Ethan pipes in from the other side of the hall. “When the storm calms down, you can check on him, Jake. I don’t like to take sides in domestic discussions, but Jordan’s right. You need to stay here with us.”

  I’m not convinced. Not even close.

  Jordan’s hand grips my upper arm, overriding the pressure in my chest. She squeezes and then rubs my arm.

  We lock eyes. There’s a deep reserve of love expressed on her face, a deep concern for me. I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to have someone so closely and intently focused on my well-being. To matter so much to another person. We’ve already parted ways once—when I came down here—and I really don’t want to risk being apart again.

  It tears me up inside to think of anything happening to Tyler. But what is Tyler to me? A stranger. A person I’m not sure I can trust. If I have to choose, I’ll choose to leave him on his own.

  Like I said—he’ll probably be okay.

  I nod at Jordan, keep my eyes locked on hers. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll stay. We’ll see what happens when the storm quiets.”

  “Are you kidding me? Both of you?”