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gently.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” He stood beside me, completely still. The loose sleeves of our tunics flapped together. “Do you know what happened to her?”
    I could have told him. It would have felt good to get it off my chest. Instead, I said nothing.
    He sighed. “Alice is right: Lora was a miserable woman.” He caught my look of surprise. “You know it’s true. Every time we’ve come to Roanoke, Father’s told me to look after her. But she never once thanked me.” He turned to face the body once more. “Go ahead and mourn her if you want, but I’m glad she’s dead. You should be too.”
    Even when Ananias left me, I stayed where I was, watching Lora float away. How could I be glad, when I was the one who let her die?
    Â * * *
    I got back to the shelter as Rose and Dennis were waking. Griffin sat with his back against the wall, hunkered down in his silent world. I thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, but his hand was moving. He was completing his drawing from the night before: a perfect image of Guardian Lora, her eyes closed and face relaxed.
    The image seemed to shift before my eyes. Griffin hadn’t drawn Lora sleeping. He’d foreseen her death.
    I knew I should ask him if he was feeling all right. Perhaps even find out more about the drawing. But in that moment, everything seemed to have changed. A catastrophe had occurred, exactly as Griffin had predicted the previous afternoon—only the victim was Lora. Did that mean that when the Guardians arrived, my father would be among them, alive and well? Surely her death couldn’t have been a coincidence. Perhaps it wasn’t even my fault.
    Ananias joined us then. When he gasped, I knew he’d made the connection too. After that, neither of us looked at the others. We couldn’t afford to show our relief while Eleanor was busy explaining to Rose and Dennis why they’d never see Guardian Lora again.

CHAPTER 7
    I awoke to the sound of muttering. Ananias and Eleanor sat on the steps, so I made my way over to them, past a sleeping Alice.
    â€œHow long did I sleep?” I asked.
    Ananias glanced up. “A quarter day.”
    â€œSix strikes?” We measured time by placing a stick in the sand and watching its shadow trace an arc across strike marks in the ground. I pictured it passing six of them.
    â€œYou needed it. We just finished lunch, but we’re running low on supplies. The Guardians still haven’t come for us.”
    That was a surprise. After a storm, the Guardians’ first priority was to take us back to the colony, or to bring us more food and water if we were going to need to stay longer in the shelter.
    â€œMaybe something got damaged, and they’re fixing it,” I said.
    â€œAll of them?”
    â€œThen maybe there’s something wrong with the bridge.”
    Eleanor shook her head. “It was just a storm, not a hurricane. Besides, we’ve been checking the bridge. No one’s been on it today.”
    â€œSo we wait.”
    Ananias and Eleanor exchanged glances.
    â€œActually,” began Ananias, “we’re afraid there might be another reason the Guardians haven’t come for us. And if it’s important enough to keep them away, they could surely use our help.”
    I nodded. “I’ll tell the others to pack their bags and head for the canoes.”
    They exchanged another awkward glance, and this time I knew what was coming.
    â€œIt’ll be better if just the two of us go. Griffin and Dennis weren’t feeling well last night. We really need someone to stay here and look after them.”
    â€œBut I can . . .”
Help you,
I wanted to say. It’s what Alice would have said—fiercely too. But they were right about Griffin and Dennis. The last thing I wanted to do was make them paddle over to Hatteras if there was a chance we’d have to return to the shelter