Chapter 28
It’s the first time we’ve gathered on the main level since Carl’s death.
Granted, we’re giving his body a wide berth—we’re sitting on the fancy couches the farthest from his shrouded body, dripping all over the cream-colored leather and shiny teak floors.
It’s silent except for the plips of water from our clothes and hair. Viv had made a slight noise of protest as we sat down, getting the sofas wet, but when Trey glared at her, daring her to say something, she shook her head and took a seat along with the rest of us.
I sit close to Fiona, hoping to feel warmth from her body—the only dry one in the room. But it’s not working. Everything about me is cold and frozen.
I keep replaying the conversation I had with Piper on the roof over and over again.
Dissecting what she said. Trying to figure out what she had been thinking when she jumped overboard.
Was she trying to kill herself? I didn’t think so; she had immediately started swimming purposefully toward Ligia.
I think she simply couldn’t take it anymore, was pushed to her breaking point.
I remember the crazed look on her face, the way her eyes were popping out of her head.
Whatever happened with Elena, it broke Piper. That much was clear.
“Two of us are gone,” Rachel says, breaking the silence with a mousy voice. “I can’t believe it. Two people, dead…”
“Technically three,” Fiona says.
The other girls stiffen; the twins look at her askance. Viv’s mouth presses into a tight pout. Trey, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be listening—he is staring over in the direction of Carl’s body.
“Fee…” There’s a clear warning in Viv’s voice.
“No, it’s true,” Fiona says, sitting up taller and glaring at Viv. Fiona’s eyes are shadowed with purple; not from makeup but from lack of sleep. “Why pretend? Why do you think Piper was such a fucking mess, Vivienne?”
“Not. Now.” Viv’s face is twisting. “Walk it off, Fiona. God knows you could use it.”
“Go fuck yourself, Viv.”
“Stop fighting!” Ashley begs them, putting her hands up as if she could separate them.
“Oh, shut up,” Fiona snaps at her. “I know you were sleeping with Carl. You don’t get to speak to me, got it?”
Ashley’s jaw drops. “What?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Fiona says, a swell of tears clogging her voice. “I knew he was cheating. With you. With his side chicks in Miami. But I loved him. I didn’t want to lose him, so I dealt with it. Only to lose him anyway.”
“I will not listen to you two fight over that fool of a man,” Viv barks.
Their voices rise into a shrill cacophony.
It transforms them—their perfect sheen had already rubbed off, but now it dissolves completely.
They are no longer influencers, no longer the people the world either aspires to be or loves to hate.
They are young, scared women with tears in their eyes and swollen red noses who are deeply, painfully fucked up. Like the rest of us.
“It was Piper,” I say, raising my voice so it cuts through their shrieking.
The noise dies down as they focus their attention on me.
“What was Piper?” Rachel asks.
“The control panel. The bridge,” I say. “It was Piper. She did it.”
Trey, who remained zoned out even among the fighting, suddenly jolts back to his body at my words. “What? Are you sure?”
I nod. “She told me.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t get to her before she fell overboard?” Viv asks suspiciously.
Oh, right. “Yeah, that’s true,” I cover, rubbing my arms and legs as if I’m trying to get warm so I don’t have to make eye contact while I lie. “She didn’t tell me on the roof. She told me last night. After she had a few drinks.”
“Why? Why would she tell you that?” Fiona demands.
“Yeah,” Trey adds. “I asked her about it last night. She swore she wasn’t involved. You all did.” He furrows his brows, making it clear what he thinks about that.
“Piper told me because she wanted to apologize,” I say, deciding to use part of the truth. “She said she was sorry I got mixed up in this. And she told me that no one is coming for us. She used the sat phone to tell emergency services that we were evacuating on our own.”
“No one knows we’re still out here?” Viv asks, horrified.
“That’s what Piper said.” I swallow. “She seemed to think everyone on Empress needed to be punished for something.” I pause.
This is stupid. I shouldn’t do it. But I can’t take it anymore, especially after Fiona’s admission.
There’s a murderer on board with us. I deserve to know who it is.
“Any idea what that might be? Any idea why she would do something so drastic?”
They are silent. Fiona is next to me, breathing quietly but saying nothing.
There’s a vein in Trey’s forehead pressing against his skin.
“Who knows what the hell was wrong with that girl?” he says.
“She drank all day, she was barely doing her job, and now you’re telling me she intentionally fucked up my yacht?
I’m glad we didn’t go after her, she could have killed us!
Do you get that? If this hurricane had gotten worse, we could have died!
She’s responsible for Carl’s death too! She kept talking about poison after we found his body, remember? God, she basically killed him!”
Next to me, Fiona moans at her boyfriend’s name, dropping her head into her arms so she can cradle her skull. Ashley’s face is stricken, and Rachel looks green.
Viv squints at Trey, and I have the sense we’re thinking the same thing: Trey is being overdramatic and reaching.
There’s an eagerness on Trey’s face, and I can see his train of thought.
If he can blame Carl’s death on Piper, he is free to let go of any guilt for this whole thing.
And he has a built-in scapegoat—blame it on the girl who went overboard.
I think again of the text Carl sent Elena, how Trey apparently told his friend Elena moved halfway across the world.
His behavior now seems all the more suspicious with that context.
“I think we should talk about something else,” Viv says, glancing at Fiona and Ashley, who have both been silenced by the mention of Carl.
Sitting near his dead body can’t be helping. A flash of sympathy warms me, and a strange sense of appreciation grows for Viv recognizing their distress.
“What are we going to do now?” Rachel asks, rubbing her sister’s back as she hunches over. “No one knows we’re out here and who knows how long this storm will last.”
“Well, we’re basically in the same situation as before,” Viv says, her face a mask again. “Except this time, we know that the loose cannon who was sabotaging things is gone.” She doesn’t sound happy about it, though. In fact, Viv is slumping, ankles crossed, hands folded tightly in her lap.
Despite their animosity, Viv must have been close to Piper. She’s actually hurting from her loss.
“Is the sat phone fixable?” Rachel asks Trey. “Did you get any further with it?”
“It’s destroyed,” he admits. “I can’t… Carl was the one who was handy with stuff like that. I don’t know how to get it working again in the state it’s in. We have to ride this out.”
“Together,” Viv adds, and she turns to stare at Fiona, who still has her head in her hands. “We’re a family, remember? We get through bad times together.”
Fiona doesn’t respond, but she slowly lifts her head, eyes filling with fresh tears. She darts a look at Ashley, but the accusing anger from earlier is gone. Fiona’s makeup, always so perfect, is bleeding and smudged. She manages a small nod, deflated.
“We’ll get through this too,” Ashley whispers, and she returns Fiona’s mournful gaze.
My mouth fills with sour saliva, and cramps seize my stomach.
It’s clear now. All the girls on Empress know what really happened to Elena.
That explains their caginess, their deference to Viv, their boss and leader.
Something bad happened on this boat, and they have been stuffing it down, trying to forget about it.
Piper cracked first, and now Fiona is following.
That’s what Piper was trying to tell me: We don’t deserve to be rescued. That’s what Fiona meant when she said technically three people have died on this yacht.
Everyone on this boat, perhaps with the exception of Carl, knew what happened to Elena. But which one of them hurt her? Who made her disappear?
That’s the thing about storms. They bring what was hidden under the sand up to the surface, tossing the truth to the waves.
I almost come right out and ask. I almost ask which one of them killed Elena. But then I think about Piper’s last words to me on the deck: Top drawer of the end table next to my bed.
And some numbers.
Directions. She was giving me directions.