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I’ll be nicer to her when we get home.
    Not that I’m horrible to her exactly, but I suppose I don’t appreciate her enough. She hasn’t been able to work here (U.S. rules for alien service wives or something), and she says it’s boring being in the middle of a war but not taking part, and wishes we’d gone back to Scotland. But then I wouldn’t see Dad at all and that would be awful, even if he is moody when he is around. Anyway, it will all be over soon and we’ll go back to our old house in Edinburgh. I love waking up on really cold mornings and wrapping up in a scarf and woolly hat for a walk to Holyrood Park. Maybe we can get a dog. I’d love a dog. A golden retriever, or one of those mongrels with hairy faces and intelligent eyes, the ones who look like they can speak.
DAY 3, AFTERNOON
    I am sitting on my own in the shelter of a fallen palm to write this. The barbecue’sgone out again and we’ve run out of charcoal. I’m beginning to think that Layla Campbell is useless.
    One bit of good news—Hope found Carly’s teddy bear sticking out of the sand. When Hope gave it to her it was like she didn’t recognize it.
    The gale isn’t as bad as it was. The waves are racing in and engulfing the narrow beach. The sea is brown from churned-up sand. There’s a new shelf of sand where it has been moved by the storm. This sea hasn’t finished with us yet.
    “Mrs. Campbell, don’t you think it would be better if we camped on higher ground?” I ask.
    “No, Bonnie, we can’t leave the body…. We can’t leave it unattended.”
    “But the tide is coming in, and with the wind behind it, it might be even higher than last night.”
    Jas supports me. “Yes, Mrs. Campbell, it doesn’t feel safe here anymore. The sea looks as if it will come crashing on top of us at any minute.”
    Mrs. Campbell looks flustered for a moment. “Okay, okay, but we better bury the remains properly first, and mark the grave, or we’ll never find it again.”
    How can she talk so coldly about Sandy?
    The burial upsets us all. Mrs. Campbell whispers a fewwords over the grave, something about Sandy being an unfortunate innocent child, but when she starts crying of course we all start. Jody wants us to chant the Amelia Earhart Cadet pledge.
    “Okay then, why not?” says Mrs. Campbell. “How does it go?”
    I am shocked. “You must know the pledge.”
    “No, Bonnie, I don’t know, actually. I only took the job as cadet leader because there was no one else qualified and I was persuaded to volunteer. So…”
    “Oh.” I feel deflated.
    We chant, without the benefit of Mrs. Campbell’s voice:
I promise to always do my best.
    I promise to be honest and truthful.
    I promise to be loyal.
    I promise to be kind and thoughtful.
    I promise to obey my parents.
    I promise to be modest.
    I promise to help my fellow cadets whenever they need help.
    We stumble through the Lord’s Prayer and sing Sandy’s favorite hymn—“All Things Bright and Beautiful.” Carly and Jody make a cross pattern in shells on the mound. Mrs. Campbell hasn’t allowed us to make the grave very deep.
    “Somebody will have to dig up her body when the boat comes,” she explains.
    I look for Carly, hoping she hasn’t heard.
    “Now, nuts, everybody. We need to gather as many as we can—enough to keep us going until we go home.”
    We set off inland, away from the roaring sea, and I try not to think of that little body, broken and alone.

    There are loads of fallen coconuts all along the top of the beach, so we won’t be short of something to eat and drink, except that we are in competition with coconut crabs. They’re hideous and large, like shell-less hermit crabs—they split open the coconut shells with their powerful claws. They are so aggressive that we have to push them away with sticks.
    Natalie can’t walk, and we carry her between us, taking turns to make a seat with our arms. But she’s no good at holding on as she’s practically unconscious, so