Unseen Messages

“She’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” I patted the ground beside me. “Come on, sit here.”

She shook her head, staring longingly into the forest. Already the kids had latched onto Estelle because she permeated a vibe that said everything would be okay as long as she was around.

With me...they were more likely to get snapped at than hugged.

I told the truth when Estelle asked if the splint had helped. I did feel better. She’d earned my eternal gratitude. But it didn’t matter because there was so much bad to overcome before we found anything good.

Thinking of her must’ve yanked her into manifestation because she exploded from the forest, holding her bronze puffer jacket.

Her face split in the biggest smile. “I found it! We’re saved!”

No...we’re not.

Slamming to her knees in the soft sand, she ripped open the zipper pockets and scooped item after item. Notepads, pens, handheld mirror, small tube of toothpaste, hair-ties...on and on until finally she tore free her cell-phone.

Shit.

My heart sank for her.

This was going to suck watching her hope disintegrate.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek as she brushed away lint and pocket remnants. She thought we would be rescued. That we wouldn’t have to worry about tree huts or eating raw fish (if we could even catch one).

Estelle wiped away grateful tears. “Thank God, it’s waterproof. Otherwise, the storm would’ve wiped it out.”

Like mine.

Even if my battery wasn’t dead and the screen smashed into a million filaments, the water leaking from the keypad would’ve killed it.

With shaking hands, she tried turning it on.

I stiffened.

Don’t do it. Don’t hurt yourself this way.

Conner and Pippa gathered around her, the air of excitement palpable.

I can’t watch.

My shoulders tightened as Estelle made an annoyed noise and Conner sucked in a breath. “Shit, it’s dead.”

Estelle didn’t comment on his profanity. I waited for the trauma, or worse, the epic silent despair that was imminent.

Wanting to console her, I murmured, “Don’t worry about it. It was a long shot and it’s over.”

She looked up. “It doesn’t matter.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? Of course, it bloody matters. Stop torturing yourself and accept the truth. It has no power. None.”

Was she well? Had the heat finally cracked her?

My heart knotted into a noose at the thought of her losing it. As much as I hated leaning on her, I couldn’t survive without her coherent and completely here with me.

“Oh, really?” She merely smiled and gave the phone to Pippa to hold.

Yep, she’s lost it.

Dragging her jacket higher up her lap, she pulled one last thing from a pocket I hadn’t seen inside the lining. A passport and credit cards fell unneeded onto the sand. A smug grin tugged her mouth.

Unravelling the device, Estelle smoothed out the wires and angled the black glass into the full path of the sunshine.

Conner bounced on his knees. “Crap, that’s awesome.”

“What’s awesome?” My curiosity billowed with every breath.

“They’re so cool,” Conner said. “My dad gave me a torch with a solar panel charger for Christmas last year.”

Solar charger?

She had a bloody solar charger?

Who was this woman?

Who was ever this prepared?

“Why the hell do you have something like that?”

Her head snapped up. “I was on tour. My battery didn’t last a full day, and I didn’t have access to a socket.”

“Tour?”

She waved away my comment. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is...we have power.”

I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t.

First, she took care of us, setting our breaks and doing everything in her ability to make us comfortable, and then, she had the foresight to pack her pockets with things like solar chargers and a waterproof phone?

I want to marry her.

I didn’t care if she said no. I didn’t care that she didn’t want me. I had to have her.

Despite myself, the bitch called hope unwound, reeling me in with tasty bait. Could we be saved, after all?

Stop it.

It was never that easy and coming down from a hopeful high was a bloody killer.

“They’re cool, right?” Estelle plugged her phone into the sun-operated charger; the chime of a connected device to an energy source rippled over my skin.

Estelle sat on her haunches as she waited for the phone to come alive.

I’d never been so anxious in my life.

“It takes a long time for a full charge, but I can use it while it’s plugged in.” Swiping the screen, she waited for the boot-up process.

The kids hovered far too close, their heads in her line of vision and fingers reverently touching the phone. We all waited, unsuccessfully hiding our impatient eagerness.

“Well?” I asked, frustration heavy in my voice.

“Well, what?” Estelle tapped and surfed menu after menu. Her shoulders locked the longer she played.

And I knew.

I just knew it wouldn’t be our ticket to freedom.

Goddammit, why did I let myself get swept away?