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“Lots of small craft there. Everyone appears to be safe, for now, at least.” His face seemed even more weathered, and I could only imagine how many hours he had been taking his boat out since he had first delivered us to the island.
    “Please keep trying,” Ms. Gates told him.
    “I probably won’t be going out again.” He folded his long fingers around his coffee cup and looked out into the rain. “I’m so exhausted that I’m seeing things.”
    “What kind of things?” I asked, and the others turned their attention to me.
    “Go without sleep for three days, and you’ll know what I mean.” He rose from the table, and I could see his weariness in the way he moved, as if he had aged since we had first encountered him.
    “I appreciate your keeping in touch,” Ms. Gates said.
    “You all stay put inside,” he told her, then stepped back out into the downpour.
    After he left, I asked Ms. Gates, “Do you think the others are okay?”
    “If they weren’t, I’m sure we would have heard.”
    We sat in the kitchen, the room dim, and the sky outside solid gray. Ms. Gates was the one person I could confess anything to, but I couldn’t find the words to tell her about the dreams. I didn’t understand them enough, and I knew she wouldn’t believe me.
    “I’m sorry, Livia ,” she said. “I wanted this trip to be a good experience for you.”
    “I know.” The words choked out of me. This might be just a storm and a bunch of freaky dreams, but it was better than what I’d left behind.
    “You know that the cruise ship most likely won’t be picking us up. We probably won’t be able to go to Mexico today. Once the storm moves on, though, we’ll be okay. Right now, we just have to find the rest of the kids.”
    “Right,” I told her, but nothing was right.
    We were all having crazy dreams. The storm was turning into something seriously dangerous. We needed a way out. A way for the weather to clear, so that we could connect with a cruise ship and continue on to Mexico. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it? Of course it was. And when we did leave here, I wondered, would the dreams stay behind? Would Aaron?
     
    ***
     
    By nine p.m., Grace still hadn’t come to my room. Maybe that was all right. Maybe she was with Charles, but probably not. She was stubborn, and the promise of finding her sister overrode anything I could say. I understood how she felt. If something could lead me to my mother, I would be as reckless as Grace. I wouldn’t care.
    I braided my hair, which was the easiest way for me to ignore it when I slept. The wind and rain were out of control. Rain banged against the windows of my room as if trying to break in. I wanted sleep, craved it like a drug. Most of all, I needed to find out what was going on in the theater, and I could tell by how Aaron had acted earlier that he didn’t want me down there.
    The scented sheets felt safe. Yes, I needed a way to see the theater without Aaron knowing. Since I had no television in the room, I made up movies in my head.
    Aaron and I dancing, his lips ready to kiss me, his warm hand on my back. My mom and I planting herbs, the sparkle in her b
lu
e eyes. The weird connection of those two dreams and those two people who now meant the most to me.
    How had Aaron made himself matter so much? Why was it impossible for me to think about my mother without thinking about him?
    Mom. Aaron. Herbs. Dance. Warmth. Everything on this cold, storm-battered night, warm and safe. Please let me stay safe. Please let me figure out a way to get into the theater the way I did the first night before I had even stepped onto this island.
     
    ***
     
    Someone taps lightly on the door of my room. I drift toward the sound.
    “Are you all right, Miss?” Peggy stands there in her husband’s rain-spattered jacket and a pair of furry gray mittens.
    “I’d like to go to the theater tonight,” I tell her. “Can you take me there?”
    “I’m not sure.” She smiles and puts out her