Overboard

Brenna's summer vacation on a ship sailing to the Florida Keys turns deadly when her best friend goes missing...

Brenna Maren looked at the sunset from atop a group of large boulders on the beach. Hearing the waves break against the shore in a rhythmic fashion, she couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of peace. Growing up in St. Augustine, the beach was apart of her everyday life. At any point in her young life, it was not uncommon to find Brenna sitting on the sand, soaking up the rays of the bright Florida sun. Even in the most hectic of times, the scenic view always made her feel instantly at ease. Life had been pretty hectic the last couple of weeks as she prepared to go on a sailing trip with her friends before she headed off to college.

Feeling strong arms wrap around her waist, Brenna nearly jumped out of her skin, forgetting that her boyfriend, Dylan, was standing behind her. “Ready to head home?” his voice whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her neck.

“In a minute,” Brenna responded, wanting to enjoy the last few minutes of the sunset.

Dylan Brooks had been Brenna’s boyfriend throughout all four years of high school, but she often wondered if it was time to move on. Dylan was as handsome as he was intelligent. He had an angular face, green eyes and black hair. His skin was golden. His physique was muscular and lean, standing six foot tall in height. He was physically perfect; yet, Brenna felt something was wrong with her prince charming. Dylan had changed a lot over the last year of school. He had grown distant. He used to be talkative and agreeable, but in the past year, he seemed increasingly guarded.

“Around this time tomorrow we’ll be sailing to the Florida Keys,” Brenna commented, brushing away the strands of brown hair the wind had blown across her face.

Brenna was not the most beautiful girl in high school. That honor went to her friend, Marissa Seaton. Yet, there was something quite pretty about her kind face. She had large brown eyes which sparkled with life. Her hair was the color of mahogany, falling limply to her waist. Her skin was like caramel. Her body wasn’t as curvy as Marissa’s, and she often felt self conscious about wearing a bathing suit next to her statuesque friend. Standing at five foot four inches, Brenna barely weighed a hundred pounds and still appeared to be a prepubescent teen. She had tried to put on some weight, but it seemed that she was doomed to look like a stick figure for the rest of her life.

“Yeah, I was thinking about that,” Dylan responded unenthusiastically. “Are you sure you want to sail all the way down to the Florida Keys?”

“Yes, aren’t you?” Brenna said, turning to face him with narrowed eyes.

He raised his hands defensively. “Don’t get mad,” he said calmly. “It’s just that... it’s going to be a long trip. The five of us are going to be stuck on a boat together and in one another’s space. It might get a little claustrophobic. Don’t you think?”

“No,” she answered abruptly. “Orman’s boat is huge!”

Orman Hurley was the richest kid in school. His father was a multimillionaire and treated himself to expensive toys which Orman had access to. Mr. Hurley’s crew had been preparing the yacht to set sail for a few days although not all of them would be on the boat once it set sail. They were running on a skeleton crew which was composed of a captain, first mate, and cook. Orman felt a skeleton crew would ensure them most privacy.

They were heading out the following morning with no parental supervision. It was just them and the crew. Everyone was looking forward to getting away, but no one more than Orman. He couldn’t wait to show his friends all the hot spots once they reached Key West.

Averting his gaze, Dylan didn’t respond.

“I am looking forward to this trip. This is the last chance we have to spend time together before we all go our separate ways.”

“I know that, but I have a feeling this trip is going to turn out to be a disaster,” he said pensively.

“Don’t be so... melodramatic. What could possibly happen?”

“Never mind,” Dylan muttered, shaking his head before plastering a phony smile on his face. “Everything is going to be fine. It is going to be a wonderful trip.”

Brenna knew that he didn’t mean what he said. He was not looking forward to this trip, and she didn’t know why. At this point, she didn’t care. She was tired of his attitude. She was tired of trying to understand his point of view. There was no understanding Dylan. He had changed to such a degree that he was no longer the person she fallen in love with. All she wanted to do was set sail, forget about her problems with Dylan and start her week of fun.

* * * * *

The next morning was chaos. Brenna had gotten off to a late start when her alarm didn’t ring. When she was finally packed and ready to go, her car wouldn’t start. She tried to call Dylan on his cell phone to ask for a ride, but he didn’t answer the call. She had to take a cab to the marina where the yacht was docked.

Dragging her luggage behind her, she followed the directions the dockhand gave her at the gate. There were so many yachts of all sizes at the marina that Brenna couldn’t spot Orman’s. Feeling as if she had gotten turned around, she was about to double back when she heard her name being called.

Brenna turned around to see Marissa, running towards her.

Marissa Seaton was perfect in every sense of the word. She had a body that drove guys crazy and a personality to match. She was tall and thin, but she still had the womanly curves which Brenna lacked. She had beautiful blue eyes that always garnered attention and plenty of compliments. She had one of those toothy smiles which lit up her whole face.

Marissa wore her dirty blond hair up in a pony tail and wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, but she still managed to look like a professional model. She wore a pink bikini with white jean shorts, showing off her naturally slender frame.

“Working on your tan already?” Brenna asked, smiling.

“Of course, why waste a second of my vacation?” Marissa retorted once she reached her. “I saw you from the deck. The boat’s this way.”

Marissa helped Brenna with her bag and led her to Orman’s yacht in the opposite direction.

“A man at the gate gave me directions, but I must have gotten turned around,” she told Marissa, feeling the warmth of the sun on her tanned skin and raising her face to the sky momentarily to meet its rays. “I guess I don’t know left from right anymore. Has everyone else arrived?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago,” Marissa answered with a laugh. “I saw your room key still hanging from its hook. That was the only clue that you hadn’t arrived. The boat is so big we could all do our own thing and meet up after we reach the Keys.”

“Well, I’m so sorry for being late,” she told her apologetically. “Everyone must be so mad at me.”

“Don’t even worry about it. We kind of expect you to be late,” Marissa teased, flashing a toothy grin in Brenna’s direction. “You are kind of known for it.”

“Did Chelsea arrive?”

Contemplating, Marissa raised her eyebrow and stared up at the sky. “Chelsea? Oh, yeah. The girl you met last year at that summer camp you work at,” she said, appearing unsure. “Chelsea Erving, right?”

“Yeah, she was in charge of the eight year olds and I was in charge of the six year olds. We just really hit it off and we’ve kept in touch ever since. I invited her. I think she will fit right in with our group.”

“I don’t know how you can still work at that camp after... the accident.” Marissa shook her head as if shaking away a negative thought.

“It’s my job, Marissa. I look forward to looking after new campers every year. I am not going to let one bad thing stop me from doing what I love.”

Shocked, her friend gazed at her as if trying to register this new information. “One bad thing? You are over it, aren’t you?”

She nodded, tiring of the subject. “Life goes on and you just have to go with it.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Marissa looked at her skeptically. “Well, I haven’t seen Chelsea but she might have gotten passed me. I will ask Orman if he has seen her, but he wants to get out as soon as possible. If she is not here yet, we might have to ditch her.”

“I am sure she is here,” Brenna told her matter-of-factly. “She is always on time for everything. She may have just gone to her room. She is not that social, but once you get to know her she is really sweet.”

Marissa led her to a large cruise ship that was docked on the deep end of the marina. “What is this? I thought we were taking Orman's yacht to the Keys.”

“Orman's dad retired a cruise ship from circulation so Orman thought it would better for us to party on.”

Brenna smiled. “He was so right. This ship is awesome,” she said, walking up the aluminum ramp onto the large vessel. “This is the biggest boat I’ve ever been on.”

“I think it is the biggest boat any of us have ever been on,” Marissa responded, reaching the deck first. “Welcome to the millionaire lifestyle. A girl could really get use to all this splendor.”

“She sure can.” Brenna said absentmindedly, looking around the deck for her boyfriend. “Have you seen Dylan? I tried to call him this morning and he didn’t pick up his cell.”

“Yeah, he arrived an hour ago with�",” Marissa began but stopped. “Why don’t I show you to your room? Then you can unpack and find Dylan?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”

Marissa led her through the reception areas and into the hall where there were elevators. “There are five levels. Top is for crew; the captain and first mate. I am second level - south. You are just below me.”

“Do you have my key?” she asked as they boarded the elevator down.

Marissa reached in her pocket and handed her a key with a white tag. “302.”

“Who am I bunking with?”

“No one,” her friend answered, pressing the button to the forth level. “Everyone has a wing. Orman didn't want anyone stepping on one another’s toes. Besides, there is more privacy that way.”

Brenna smiled. “This is way cooler than a small yacht,” she commented and allowed her eyes to drift to Marissa’s wrist. “You still have it!”

“Of course,” Marissa said warmly, cupping the charm bracelet which hung from her wrist delicately. “My best friend gave it to me.”

“I gave it to you in the fifth grade. I didn’t think you still had it.”

Marissa’s smile faded. “Just remember one thing when Chelsea arrives.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly concerned by the sadness in Marissa’s eyes.

“That I’m your best friend,” Marissa finished in a small voice, her eyes reflecting her preoccupation.

Brenna launched herself atop of her grand, king-sized bed, allowing her body to sink into the pillow-top mattress. Her muscles instantly relaxed, and she felt suddenly at peace.

Marissa had left her to unpack, but she didn’t feel much like unpacking. She felt like relaxing and sleeping her vacation away. Before she could get too comfortable with the idea of wasting her vacation, she sat up in bed, scanning the contents of her room with her eyes.

The suite was quite large for a room on a cruise ship and had its own private bathroom which was a perk for Brenna who had to share a bathroom at home. Her room was sparsely decorated with a few pieces of furniture which were dated but usable for their intended purpose. There was a sitting area in the far side of the room with a cream colored couch and a mahogany coffee table. In the corner, there was a wooden writing desk next to a wall of sheer curtains. Shafts of bright sunlight penetrated the flimsy fabric, filling the room with warm sunlight.

Curious, Brenna stood and walked over to the curtains, pulling them apart. Sweet, she thought excitedly, smiling to herself as she realized she had a private deck.

Opening the sliding glass door, she stepped out into the balcony. Seeing the marina fading into the horizon, a feeling of tranquility washed over her. She was leaving behind St. Augustine and all of her stressors along with it. It was time for her to rest and digest before her yearly stint as a counselor.

Feeling the breeze whipping around her tresses softly, Brenna felt more at ease. She momentarily closed her eyes. Inhaling the salty air, she exhaled her breath slowly, feeling the tension lift from her body.

Wanting nothing more than to curl up in her bed, she stepped into her suite and closed the glass door behind her. It was then she heard the moan.

Brenna spun on her heel and fearfully looked about the suite. With her heart beating hard within her chest, she recalled that she was isolated from the others. She knew all the other rooms in the corridor were vacant. Taking a few cautious steps forward, she approached the door of her suite and turned the knob slowly. With increasing trepidation, she stepped into the hall and quickly realized she was alone.

“Hello?” she called, her voice bouncing off the walls of the empty hall.

A muffled cry broke the silent and still corridor.

Brenna’s head shot to a neighboring suite. Taking small, hesitant steps, she knocked on the door of suite 304. When she was not met with a reply, she tried the knob, and to her surprise, the door was unlocked. “Hello?” she called into the darkened room.

“Brenna?” a small voice questioned.

Recognizing the voice, Brenna darted into the room, struggling to see through the darkness. Her eyes focused on the figure that reclined on the bed in a fetal position. “Chelsea?”

“Yeah,” she whimpered.

Walking over to the windows, Brenna pushed aside the heavy curtains, allowing the sunlight to pour into Chelsea’s room. “What are you doing in bed? Get up! I want to introduce you to all my friends,” she told Chelsea, approaching her bed.

“I can’t!” Chelsea cried. “I am so sorry, Bren. I just feel so sick.”

Standing over Chelsea, Brenna inspected her friend and instantly realized she was not exaggerating. Chelsea looked horrible. She appeared disheveled and her skin was paler than usual, taking on an ashen appearance. Her eyes lacked the ability to focus, and her eyelids appeared heavy as if it took a great effort for her to open them.

“How? Do you have the flu?”

“I think I am seasick,” she replied, cradling herself. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

“How? We just left port!” Brenna covered her friend with a warm quilt. “I wanted you to meet my friends today, but it can wait until tomorrow. Just get some rest and you’ll feel better in the morning,” she reassured her.

Chelsea nodded. “I hope so.”

* * * * *

The next day, Chelsea’s health had not improved. She could barely hold any food down and her seasickness had kept Chelsea isolated from all the festivities. Brenna felt bad about leaving Chelsea, but she made Brenna promise to have fun for her and Brenna intended to do just that.

By the time Brenna reached the dining hall, the rest of her friends had already begun eating their breakfast.

Feeling calm and relaxed, Brenna stood by the buffet, filling her plate with eggs and bacon. Before taking her seat, she poured herself a mug full of coffee, sensing that caffeine would be necessary to get through the rest of her day. “Good morning,” she greeted, her voice bouncing off the walls of the nearly vacant dining room.

“Good morning, Bren,” Marissa greeted back, smiling. She was already wearing her bathing suit, appearing ready for a day of lounging about the deck.

Seated next to Marissa, Dylan looked up from his plate and glanced at Brenna, appearing disinterested. He was still dressed in his sweat pants and white tee. His hair was sticking up, and his eyes were still heavy from sleep. “Mornin’,” he muttered, taking a sip of his orange juice.

Brenna rolled her eyes, taking her seat. “Good morning, Dylan. I didn’t see you yesterday. Nice to know you’re alive,” she said sarcastically, glaring at him.

“I saw you last night at dinner,” he said quietly.

He knew that was not what she meant. Dylan hadn’t spent any time with her since they set sail. When she left Chelsea and found the others lounging at the pool, she decided to join them. Rather than hold a conversation, Dylan immediately launched himself into the deep end and swam laps. At dinner, he was quiet and only responded to direct questions with one word answers. Brenna felt neglected. It was almost as if he was avoiding any interaction with her altogether.

Ignoring Dylan’s bad mood, Brenna looked over at Orman who had his head in his hands, covering his handsome face. “What’s up, Orman?” she asked with a teasing quality to her voice. “You look like you just snuck into your parents’ wine cellar and drank every bottle while you were there.”

Across the table, Orman looked up momentarily, glancing at Brenna with his glazed over eyes. “Close. I got into the bar in the dance club downstairs,” he said with a slow smile. “I’m still hung over.”

Orman always blushed when he smiled which was quite endearing. All the girls at school chased after him and it wasn’t just because his father had money. He wasn’t bad to look at. His skin was fair, and his hair was sandy. He was awkward as if uncomfortable in his own skin, but at the same time, he wasn’t insecure. There was something handsome about Orman. It could have been his blue eyes which seemed to be as bright as Caribbean waters. It could have been his tall and lean physique. Orman wasn’t mysterious looking like Dylan, but he had other qualities which made him irresistible to the opposite sex.

“What fun is a vacation if you are too drunk to remember it?” Marissa asked, glaring at Orman.

Orman looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Maybe, I don’t want to remember anything. My best memories are the ones I can’t remember.”

Marissa scoffed. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you! You are such an idiot sometimes.”

He laughed her off. “You know you love me,” he told her, taking a sip of a cocktail which cures hangovers that he whipped up before she arrived. Orman never took Marissa seriously which was yet another of their downfalls.

Brenna smiled to herself, recalling Marissa’s short-lived romance with Orman. It was a disaster from the beginning. They fought constantly. Brenna always got the impression that Marissa wanted a certain lifestyle more than she wanted Orman. He must have gotten that impression as well. They parted ways quietly after only a few weeks of dating.

“Where’s your friend? Is she still under the weather?” Marissa asked.

Before answering, Brenna took a sip of her coffee. “She is still seasick, but I am hoping she improves enough to have dinner with us later.”

“Let’s hope,” Marissa said with mock enthusiasm.

“Marissa,” Orman warned, flashing a look of disapproval her way.

Looking up from her plate, Brenna stared at Marissa while analyzing her comment. She knew Marissa was a bit jealous of her friendship with Chelsea, but she hoped that she could put aside her insecurities and give Chelsea a chance. “Where is Hallie?” she asked, directing her question to no one in particular.

Hallie Seymour was the missing link to complete their clique. Hallie was pretty and petite just like Brenna. Her dark skin was like milk chocolate and her eyes were hazel. Everything about Hallie was so warm and inviting.

Brenna hadn’t talked to Hallie in a long while. She had changed since last summer. Hallie had been outgoing and fun. No matter where they were, Brenna knew she was going to have fun if Hallie was there. Now, she was withdrawn and quiet. Still, Brenna loved her and wanted their friendship to be as it was.

Marissa shot Dylan an awkward glance and said, “I don’t know. She must still be asleep.”

“I haven’t seen her in a long time,” Brenna commented, feeling depressed. “I hope we can spend some time together.”

Appearing annoyed, Orman looked from Marissa to Dylan. “Look, Brenna. I don’t think Hallie is ready to allow herself to have fun.”

“Why not?” she asked, confused. “Is she mad at me? Did I do something?”

“No,” Orman said adamantly. “She just has some things she had to deal with on her own.”

Brenna nodded. “I don’t know what else to do,” she told them. “She has just changed since last summer and all I want is for things to be as they were.”

Marissa rolled her eyes. “She lost her sister. She lost Morgan, Bren,” she said furiously, misdirecting her anger at Brenna. “Not everyone can bounce back from that as well as you can.”

Brenna stared at Marissa in disbelief. She was taken aback by how her friend was acting. Marissa had just exploded. “Morgan was my friend, too. I miss her everyday. But you can’t stop living, because someone is dead.”

“I can’t believe you are so cold,” Marissa told her as tears welled up in her eyes. “All you care about is your precious scholarship and your boyfriend. How many times have we hung out since last summer, huh? Once. Maybe, twice. You are so wrapped up in what Dylan is doing you can’t see that your friend is hurting.”

“Stop,” Orman said forcefully, glaring at Marissa. “Enough!”

“Do you know I haven’t seen you cry once,” she continued, obviously in pain. “Your other best friend died and you acted like it was just another day. What is wrong with you, Brenna?”

“Noth―nothing is wrong... with me,” Brenna responded, feeling overwhelmed and stumbling over her words. She glanced at Dylan to see if he would speak up and defend her, but he just shot his hands up.

“I can’t take this,” he said and got up from the table, walking out of the dining hall.

Marissa followed Dylan’s cue and walked out without another word.

Brenna could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Once the first tear escaped, it was hard for her to stop crying. “What do I do, Orman? How do I make things right?”

Orman put his hand over hers in a rare moment of compassion. “Talk to Hallie,” he said softly, rubbing her hand gently. “She just needs to hear that you understand what she is going through.”

* * * * *

Brenna stood outside Hallie’s door, contemplating whether or not to knock on the door. All kinds of emotions went through her as she stood in the hall. She wondered if Hallie was ready to see her. She wondered if she was ready to see Hallie. Would there be tears? Would they argue? Working up the courage within herself, she raised her hand and knocked softly three times.

Within seconds, Hallie opened up the door to her suite. She greeted Brenna politely, but her face was not one of happiness to see an old friend. Her hazel eyes lacked the sparkle that Brenna loved so much, and she narrowed them when she gazed upon her. She appeared to be bothered by Brenna’s sudden appearance although she invited her inside her room. The happy-go-lucky demeanor that Hallie was known for had vanished. Instead, Hallie looked like another person who was weighed down by the burdens of the world.

Hallie’s room was similar to Brenna’s, but lacked the balcony that Brenna’s suite had. She made her way to the seating area and made herself comfortable. “I just came to say ‘hi’ and see how you were doing,” Brenna said in an effort to break the silence.

“I’m fine,” Hallie said, taking a seat on the sofa beside Brenna.

Brenna looked at her friend skeptically. “Hallie, we haven’t spoken in months, and I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me,” she said, trying to be more empathetic to Hallie’s feelings. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” she told her without any signs of hesitation.

“Why? Why have you been avoiding me?” Brenna questioned without taking a breath. “What have I ever done to you?”

Hallie met her eyes. “My sister is dead.”

Brenna sat silent for a moment. “I know she is dead,” she responded in a small voice. “We all loved Morgan.”

“Did you love her, Brenna?”

“Of course, I did,” she retorted, outraged that her sentiments would even be questioned.

“You didn’t come to the funeral. You didn’t even send a card,” Hallie stated. “What am I supposed to think?”

“You don’t have to think anything,” she said defensively. “I couldn’t deal so I just locked myself away. I didn’t see anyone for months. See, I was just like you, Hallie.”

“Oh, you were,” Hallie shot back sarcastically.

“Yes,” Brenna continued. “I was mad at the world. I spent months avoiding those I cared about, because I was afraid that they could see my pain. But I couldn’t spend my life that way and you can’t either. With time, you will come to understand that Morgan’s death was an accident... and there is nothing we can do for her now.”

Hallie looked at Brenna as if evaluating her for a moment. “You are just too quick to call my sister’s death an accident.”

“Wasn’t it?” Brenna asked, dumbfounded. “The papers said that she fell, hit her head and fell off the rowboat into the lake. I know I read that.”

“What was my sister doing on a rowboat in the middle of the lake?” Hallie asked suspiciously, arching her brow.

“I―I don’t know exactly,” she stammered, feeling frazzled.

“Come on, Brenna! You know something,” Hallie cried, balling her hands into fists and pounding her lap. “You were her best friend, and you’re telling me you didn’t know what she was doing there! I don’t believe that! Was it to meet a boy? Was she fighting with anyone? Any camp counselor?”

“No, we were all... really close,” she told her nervously, trying to think hard about last summer. The more she tried to recall her memories, the more they evaded her. She couldn’t remember details. It was almost like staring into a void and trying to see the bottom. The memories just weren’t there. “I don’t know, Hallie. I don’t know.”

* * * * *

“Brenna, stop crying,” Chelsea told her sternly.

“They hate me! Everyone hates me,” she cried, leaning on Chelsea and crying on her shoulder. “They all blame me, and I didn’t even do anything!”

Chelsea patted her back gently. “Sometimes people need someone to blame when a tragedy takes place. They just can’t accept that there isn’t anyone to blame. It was just a freak accident.”

With her mind racing, Brenna pulled away from her friend, looking into her eyes. “Do you think she was meeting someone at the lake? Do you think she was arguing with another camp counselor?”

“No,” Chelsea said, shaking her head. “Wouldn’t you have known if she was seeing someone?”

Brenna nodded. “She told me everything,” she told her, feeling confused. “Do you think they invited me on this vacation to trap me into telling them something?”

“What could you possibly have to tell them that they don’t already know?”

“Nothing,” she answered after a long minute of silence, trying to rack her brain for answers. “Nothing. I can’t remember that far. Maybe... if I thought about it more.”

“Stop,” Chelsea ordered her in a gentle tone. “You can’t go back. We can only move forward. If there was useful information in that big head of yours, you would have remembered it already.”

Brenna laughed in the midst of her tears. “You’re right.”

Chelsea smiled at her. “Now, you’re going to go to your room and get some rest. Some sleep will put everything into perspective.”

* * * * *

Brenna could feel herself falling deeper into unconsciousness. She welcomed the quiet that only sleep could bring. Allowing her mind to construct a scenario, Brenna began to dream. Floating in still waters, she let her body drift, liking the coolness of the water on her skin. Using her arms like paddles, she managed to keep her body adrift with slow, broad strokes.

She smiled to herself.

She couldn’t recall feeling this relaxed since....

Suddenly feeling dread seeping painfully into her stomach, Brenna’s eyes flew open.

In a moment of cognition, she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure standing over her. Cursing under her breath, she righted herself in the water to get a better view. Kicking hard to keep her head out of the water, she tried her best to digest what was happening.

Brenna gasped. “Morgan?” she questioned in utter disbelief, seeing her friend standing on a rowboat before her.

With the entire scene bathed in moonlight, it took her a second to notice that Morgan’s face was twisted in a sneer, and she was wielding a wooden paddle, holding it above her head in a threatening manner.

“Have a nice swim, Bren?” she asked menacingly, grinding her teeth together before she brought the paddle down on Brenna’s head, hitting it with a sickening crack.

Disoriented, Brenna jumped up from her nightmare. She could feel her hot tears as they ran down her cheeks and welled at the base of her chin. Wiping her tears away, she looked around the room, feeling relieved. She brushed her dark tresses from her face and tried her best to steady her breaths. Placing a hand over her chest, she willed her heart to slow its dysrhythmic beat.

“What is happening to me?” she asked herself, shedding more tears.

Brenna couldn’t remember feeling more alone. Her boyfriend ignored her. Her best friends doubted her. She was getting blamed for something she had nothing to do with. Now, she was dreaming about someone who was dead!

The only one she could trust was Chelsea, and she hadn’t even known her for long.

Perhaps, what was most disturbing to her was that she rarely dreamed. Brenna could go years without dreaming. So, why now?

Throwing the covers off, she rose to her feet and found her way to the bathroom in the dark. She switched on the lights which blinded her temporarily. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stalked over to the sink. Running the cold water, she splashed it on her tear-stained face, hoping the coolness of the water would shock her into the present. However, her mind kept drifting to the past.

Somehow her fun getaway had turned into an utter disaster. Where did she go wrong? She couldn’t understand how things had gone so bad. Why were people so willing to bring up the past and ruin the present with their suspicions? What could possibly be done at this point? Morgan had already been dead a year and her death was labeled an accident. What did it help to relive the past?

Stepping out of the bathroom, Brenna turned off the light and tucked herself back into bed. As she made herself comfortable, she heard the sound of a sliding glass door opening.

Brenna looked at the door to her balcony which was securely closed. It must be Marissa, she concluded.

Since her suite was just upstairs, it wouldn’t have been uncommon for Brenna to hear the goings-on of the suite above her. She focused her senses and heard Marissa talking. Although her friend’s voice was muffled, Brenna could hear that Marissa was arguing with someone!

Maybe, she is talking on her cell phone, she thought. But how does she have reception in the middle of the Atlantic?

Brenna sat up in bed, struggling to hear Marissa’s conversation.

Suddenly, there was a muffled scream.

Gasping, Brenna stared at her balcony doors, transfixed. As shafts of moonlight penetrated the darkness, she wondered if she should investigate what was happening in the suite upstairs. However, fear caused her to remain exactly where she was.

Beginning to hyperventilate, she stared at the balcony doors, debating with herself. What if Marissa was in trouble? What if she was just on the phone? Marissa was overdramatic so it wouldn’t be uncommon for her to speak loudly during telephone conversations.

Still, alarm bells were ringing in Brenna’s head. There was a thickness in the air around her. Her stomach was in knots. She intuitively knew something was wrong.

Suddenly, Brenna heard a loud thud as if a bowling ball had been dropped on wooden planks. In the still of the night, the thud was as clear as thunder. Shaking heavily, she threw the sheets off, continuing to hesitate over whether to go to Marissa’s suite. Her line of sight shifted from the glass doors to the ceiling. She knew whatever she heard was not normal. Rising to her feet, she continued to stare at the ceiling as she heard the sound of something large being dragged across the floor above her. Frozen, she followed the sound with her eyes until the night was still once more.

Unaware of how much time she let pass, Brenna knew she could delay her investigation no more. Marissa was in trouble, and as far as she knew, she was the only one aware of it.

With her heart thudding in her chest, she stepped out into the dark hallway. Inching forward, every part of her being told her to turn back, but she couldn’t. She tingled with the anticipation of what she would find once she reached Marissa’s room.

As her mind raced with the dreaded possibilities, she found herself wandering the second level, looking for Marissa’s room. The only sources of illumination were these lights that looked like something you would put on a Christmas tree. There were these two long cords which flanked the carpet and ran the length of the hall. They were not unlike those Brenna had seen in dark movie theaters. Orman said it saved on oil if the lights were turned off at night, but right now, she wished he had kept the lights on.

I am in room 302 so that would make Marissa’s room 202, she thought as she continued down the dark corridor, feeling the walls for room numbers.

“Bren?”

The sound of her name being uttered made Brenna nearly jump out of her skin. Shaking, she turned abruptly to make out the dark form in the hall. “Hallie?” she questioned as her mind struggled to put a face to the voice.

“Yeah,” Hallie said. “What are you doing out of bed?”

Brenna’s eyes adjusted to the dark, and she could see her friend more clearly. Hallie was standing in her nightclothes with her hands on her waist. Her hair was a mess and she appeared to have just awakened.

“What are you?” Brenna asked suspiciously.

Hallie eyed her cautiously. “I was just getting something to drink.”

Brenna stared at Hallie, trying to conclude whether she should believe her. She couldn’t see very well, but she didn’t see Hallie with a glass in her hand. “Where is the glass of water?”

“I drank it in the kitchen. What’s with the inquisition?” she asked angrily. “What are you doing up here anyway?”

“Have you been following me?” Brenna asked shrilly, trying to stop her body from trembling.

Hallie stood up straight and yelled, “Are you crazy? What is wrong with you?”

“I have to check on Marissa,” she told her, spinning on her heel and heading down the hall.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Hallie questioned nervously, following Brenna.

Brenna ignored her, stopping right outside Marissa’s door and knocking. “Marissa? Are you okay?” she called through the door.

“What’s going on?” Hallie inquired.

“Marissa?” she called louder, instinctively reaching for the doorknob and turning it. To Brenna’s surprise, the door opened easily. The creak of it as it opened sent chills down her spine. She cautiously stepped into the suite, hoping not to be ambushed by whoever may have hurt her friend.

“What’s going on?” Hallie whispered, obviously sensing Brenna’s tension. She hung back, watching her every move nervously.

“Shh,” Brenna shushed her, fearfully holding her breath.

Preparing herself for what she would see, she felt the wall beside her for a light switch. When she found it, she flicked it on.

Momentarily blinded, she prepared herself for a fight, but she was met with silence. When she opened her eyes, she found Marissa’s room was empty. Brenna’s eyes scanned the bed which was made. Glancing at the rest of the room, there were no apparent signs of a struggle. Marissa’s things were all in place, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Will you tell me what is going on?” Hallie asked, shouting.

“I heard something. I thought Marissa might have gotten hurt,” Brenna said, gazing at the balcony doors which were open.

The breeze was causing the curtains to billow which gave Brenna an eerie feeling. Walking towards them, Brenna inspected the balcony through the doors. When she found that nothing was out of place, she slid them closed.

“I heard a scream,” she said, talking more to herself than Hallie.

“Oh, please! She was probably getting it on with―” Hallie started, but closed her mouth abruptly.

“With who?” Brenna questioned, turning to face her.

Hallie averted her gaze guiltily.

“With who? Answer me right now!” she screamed, almost frantic.

Hallie looked her in the eyes once more. “With Dylan. It’s no secret they’ve been hanging out closely since we boarded this ship. I saw them the other day, standing close to each other... and whispering about something. Something is obviously going on between them.”

“Dylan has changed, and I know Marissa’s a flirt, but they would never betray me,” Brenna said, feeling her blood begin to boil.

“It’s not like Dylan has the best track record,” Hallie said sarcastically.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Hallie placed her hand on her hip, obviously annoyed. “Don’t play dumb, Brenna,” she said. “You know Dylan and Morgan had something going on.”

“He never dated Morgan,” Brenna said, balling her fists at her side.

“Is that what he told you?” Hallie asked in a belittling tone. “Well, that is not what Morgan told me. They had something going on before he dumped her. He may even have been dating the two of you at the same time. So, believe what you want.”

Fuming, Brenna could feel her face grow hot as her cheeks flushed. She wanted to punch Hallie in the face, but she had to find out if there was any truth to her words.

Without further hesitation, she marched passed Hallie and down the hall to the staircase. She flew up the stairs to the first level, and walked towards the bow of the ship where Dylan’s room was. Standing outside of suite 152, Brenna lifted her fist to the door and pounded on it with all of her might.

Dylan opened the door to his suite just enough for Brenna to push through, barging into the room and looking through all the places a person could hide.

“What’s going on?” he asked after nearly being squashed between the door and the wall.

“Where’s Marissa?” Brenna asked furiously as her eyes darted around the suite.

“What? I don’t know,” he said groggily, rubbing his eyes. He appeared as if he had been asleep when Brenna came knocking. His voice, which was usually deep and smooth, was now hoarse. His hair was sticking up messily, and his night clothes were wrinkled.

Marching towards Dylan, she demanded, “Are you seeing her behind my back?”

“No!” he said, his eyes opened wide with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“So, what is going on? You have been acting distant, and everywhere you go Marissa follows you like a lost puppy.”

“She does not!” he shouted at her, obviously irritated by her accusations. “Where is all this coming from, Bren?”

Brenna looked at him, trying to evaluate whether to punch him or believe him. “What have you been up to, Dylan?”

“I’ve been preoccupied,” he said lamely. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Like what?”

“Why are you getting mad at me? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“I just want... the truth. I want to know what’s up with you. If you’re not with Marissa, are you with someone else? Are you going to break up with me?”

“You’re obviously out of your mind, and I am too tired for this,” he told her, rubbing his temples as he walked to the door. Holding it open, he said, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, I’m going to bed.”

Brenna could take a hint. She walked out of Dylan’s suite, feeling worse than when she had entered. The status of their relationship wasn’t clear, and Marissa was still nowhere to be found. She hoped everything would be clearer in the morning.

Looking up, Brenna could make out Hallie’s silhouette in the hall, standing by the doors to the staircase. Maybe, there was something in her posture as she stood nonchalantly with her chin in the air, but Brenna got the impression that Hallie was pleased with the discord she had caused.

* * * * *

The next morning Brenna slept in. She wanted to avoid eating breakfast with the others. When she felt it was safe, she went down to the dining hall and helped herself to the buffet. The cook was serving chocolate chip pancakes which were to die for, but she couldn’t eat with her life in shambles. Dylan was neglecting her. Hallie was mad at her. Marissa thought she was insensitive. What else could go wrong?

“Good morning.”

Brenna was jolted out of her thoughts as Chelsea joined her at the table. She had a small helping of pancakes on her plate and a cup of coffee.

Gazing at Brenna thoughtfully, Chelsea took a seat beside her. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I greeted you when I first came in, but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

“I have a lot on my mind,” Brenna admitted, mashing the pancakes on her plate with her fork.

“Like what?”

“Dylan and I had a fight last night.”

“Oh, no,” Chelsea said, appearing concerned. “What happened?”

“Something stupid,” Brenna said, shaking her head at her behavior. “I let Hallie manipulate me into arguing with him. I listened to her lies, but it will never happen again.”

Chelsea nodded. “Make sure it doesn’t. Or else, I will have to step in, and that... might get ugly.”

There was enough steel in Chelsea’s voice to make Brenna shiver. “I’ve got it covered,” she said, feeling suddenly fearful. She excused herself from the table and left the dining hall in a hurry.

As she made her way to the reception area, she wondered if she should pay a visit to Marissa, but an incredible need to see Dylan came over her. Stopping at the large lobby, Brenna tried to think of where Dylan would be. She thought he could be in the dance hall, running through all the liquor the bar had to offer with Orman. However, Dylan wasn’t much of a rule breaker so she knew that searching for him there would be a waste of time. There was an arcade by the lobby, but she knew he wouldn’t be found there. Dylan never wasted his time with video games. The pool, she thought, knowing he would prefer to be outdoors.

Making her way to the deck, she thought of what she would say to him. Did he even want to talk to her at that point? She didn’t care. She had to know where they stood in their relationship.

When she finally reached the deck, she breathed in the salty sea air and gazed at the deep blue horizon. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the feeling of the sun warming her skin made her feel at ease.

Making her way to the pool, she found Dylan exactly where she thought he would be. He was lounging by the water, sitting on a side chair with his feet up on a rattan ottoman. However, he was not alone. He was having a heated discussion with Hallie. She was showing him a file full of papers, pointing out important tidbits.

Staring at them intently, Brenna was too far away to hear the conversation although she did try. As soon as Dylan noticed her approach, he stopped talking in mid-sentence.

He glared at Brenna momentarily before telling Hallie their conversation was over.

Outraged, Hallie rose to her feet in a huff and stomped away without acknowledging Brenna’s presence.

“She is in a good mood,” Brenna commented sarcastically, watching Hallie until she was out of sight.

“You upset her last night,” he replied, appearing irritated. “What do you want?”

“I just want to talk,” she said calmly, taking a seat in Hallie’s abandoned chair. “I wanted to tell you personally that I am sorry. I should have known better than to listen to Hallie, but... I didn’t. It was almost like she wanted me to fight with you―”

“Stop, Bren,” he said, cutting her off and appearing disgusted. “It is not her. It is you. Stop blaming other people for your actions.”

“I’m not! I just―”

“The truth is you haven’t been the same since last summer, and I am tired of waiting for things to go back to the way they were.”

Jumping to her feet, she glared at him. “What are you saying?”

“I need a break,” Dylan said coldly.

“A break?” Brenna repeated in shock, feeling a hole in her chest as if something had been ripped out of her. Then her mind began to reel, and she began to spout out questions without a breath. “Is it because of Marissa? Or Hallie? Or whatever happened with Morgan?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I knew this trip was going to be a disaster, and it has been one thing after another with you. I am tired of the drama. We need a break, and then maybe the old Brenna will come back.”

Dylan didn’t wait for Brenna to respond. He put his hands up to silence her and walked away, leaving her standing alone.

“I thought you had it all handled.”

Surprised, Brenna turned to see Chelsea. She didn’t realize that she was standing right behind her. Feeling bothered by her friend’s presence, she asked, “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

Chelsea smiled wryly. “I didn’t sneak up on you. You were just so lost in thought you didn’t hear me.”

Glaring, Brenna crossed her arms in front of her.

“I thought you said you had it covered.”

“I did,” Brenna said, unwilling to admit that things were not as under control as she had hoped.

“Is that why Dylan stormed out of here like he couldn’t stand to be around you anymore?”

Embarrassed, Brenna averted her gaze, choosing to stare down at the ground than look at Chelsea again. “I―,” she stared to speak, but she could not summon the right words to quiet Chelsea.

Chelsea leaned forward and whispered, “If you ask me, all this... is one person’s fault.”

“Marissa’s,” Brenna concluded, trying to follow Chelsea’s lead.

“Yes! You heard Hallie... Marissa has been after Dylan since you got on the ship.”

Brenna nodded, recalling how Marissa didn’t want her to look for Dylan when she arrived on the boat. She remembered how Marissa had stomped out of the dining hall after Dylan. She recalled how Marissa told her not to forget that they were friends as if preparing her for a betrayal.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I am... going to confront her,” Brenna answered hesitantly, feeling unsure over whether she was about to do the right thing. “I am going to ask her what is really happening... with Dylan.”

“Good,” Chelsea said, smiling sadistically.

Brenna smiled back although she wasn’t exactly sure why.

* * * * *

Brenna pounded on the suite door. She wondered if Marissa was awake since she hadn’t seen her all morning. When Marissa didn’t answer the door, Brenna concluded she must have had a bad hangover. She was about to walk away when she heard Chelsea’s voice in her head, telling her to stand up to Marissa.

She reached for the knob and turned it. The door opened with a click and Brenna stepped inside. “Marissa?”

Brenna stepped further into the suite, realizing the curtains were pulled tightly closed and blocking out the light. Walking over to the sliding glass doors, Brenna pulled back the curtains, bathing the suite in light. “Get up, Marissa,” Brenna said as she began to whirl around to face the bed. It took her a few seconds for her brain to register that the bed was empty. As her eyes wandered the room, she realized nothing had changed since the night before. Everything was exactly as it was....

She couldn’t stop this nagging feeling creeping up in the back of her mind. Although the room was neat and tidy, something was off. Something was wrong. Marissa was nowhere to be found.

Brenna stared out of the glass doors, debating over what to do. Should she tell the others that something was wrong? Would they agree? Would they think she was crazy? What about the loud thump that came from Marissa’s suite the night before?

Overwhelmed, she began to sob. She had known Marissa all her life, and she wouldn’t be able to bear it if something had happened to her.

Brenna shook herself, feeling foolish. What if she was just overreacting? What if Marissa was somewhere on the boat having fun?

Wiping her eyes, Brenna eyes caught something on the deck. She opened the glass door to get a better view of the thing which glinted in the sunlight. She bent over and picked up a flimsy, silver charm bracelet that was lodged between the wooden boards.

Picking it up to inspect it, she gasped, feeling her heart quicken. Brenna knew the bracelet well. She had given it to Marissa for her eleventh birthday. She never took it off.

Brenna held up the charm bracelet in the sunlight, making out a single blond hair that was entwined in the links. Inspecting the bracelet, she was able to see that it had been broken. It seemed to have rusted. Her eyes opened wide when she realized that silver doesn’t rust, but blood does!

“Brenna?” Orman called from inside the suite.

In her surprise, she dropped the bracelet and it slid across the deck.

“What are you doing?” he asked, joining her on the balcony.

“Something is wrong, Orman,” Brenna told him frantically, picking up the bracelet before it slid off of the edge of the balcony. “Marissa didn’t sleep in her room. I haven’t seen her since yesterday, and now, I just found her bracelet!”

Putting his hands up in a gesture of mock defense, Orman appeared bewildered. “Calm down, Brenna. What are you talking about?”

Holding it securely in her grasp, she held up the bracelet to his face. “Look at it!”

He cupped his hand and Brenna placed the bracelet in his hand. He inspected carefully, running his thumb over the dried blood which was caked in between the links.

“We have to report this,” Brenna said hysterically. “We have to call the National Guard! Marissa could have hit her head. She could have fallen overboard! Or someone could have done something to her.”

Orman grabbed Brenna’s shoulders and forced her to look at him in his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Listen to me,” Orman said sternly, shaking her slightly back to her senses. “Are you listening?”

Brenna nodded, looking up at him fearfully.

“We have to get rid of this bracelet,” he said without an ounce of hesitation.

“No,” Brenna said, shacking her head in confusion. “There was blood on her bracelet! The bracelet was broken as if there had been a struggle. We have to report this!”

Orman shook his head. “Listen to me! This bracelet could hurt us. We have to get rid of it,” he said calmly. He let Brenna go and stood closer to the railing, looking over the edge at the ship’s wake. “The deck must have been slippery. She could have easily fallen, hit her head and went over the rail. That would explain the blood. Understand?”

Sobbing, Brenna nodded.

“We know nothing. We will search the ship for her, but if she is gone, no one is to blame,” he said before he tossed the bracelet into the ocean.

Wiping her tears, Brenna stood silent, watching the symbol of her life long friendship slip underneath the waves.

* * * * *

Brenna went to her room, standing before the sliding glass doors and looking out into the horizon in a state of shock. She didn’t remember the journey there, but when she reached her destination, she quickly came to her senses.

She had so many questions. Orman said he would answer them all once he staged a search for Marissa and called the Coast Guard. Yet, Brenna had no concept of the time that had passed, and every minute that passed dragged on like an eternity.

She was shaking.

Surely, there would be an investigation, and everyone on board would be deemed a suspect. Yet, Orman’s plan made sense. It was totally plausible that Marissa could have slipped and hit her head, causing her to lose consciousness which then led to her falling overboard. Such an idea, once implanted into the mind, seemed quite believable. However, Brenna couldn’t stop the nagging feeling which was gnawing away at her.

“Did you see Marissa?”

Brenna jumped and spun around. She breathed a sigh of relief when she laid eyes on Chelsea. Confused, Brenna glanced at her suite door and saw it ajar. “How did you get in? I thought I had locked it.”

“Did you really think a cheap lock could keep me away?” Chelsea asked with a dry laugh. “Did you see Marissa when you went to her suite?”

Brenna shook her head violently. “No,” she said nervously.

“No?” Chelsea questioned, appearing confused.

“No,” Brenna confirmed. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she asked, “Why did you come here?”

Chelsea smiled broadly. “I was thinking... about how you assumed Marissa was the cause of all of your problems?”

Brenna looked upon her skeptically, wondering what she was going to say next. “Vaguely.”

“Well, it may not have been her,” she announced, talking casual steps closer to Brenna. “I was thinking... about how it was really Hallie that made you fight with Dylan last night. It was Hallie he was with by the pool this morning, showing him those mysterious papers. Could they have been evidence of something? Love letters or something like that.”

Brenna contemplated her words.

“I think we should find out what is in that file.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Brenna inquired.

Chelsea smiled deviously. “You go to her room and look through it.”

“And what about you?”

“Brenna, don’t worry about me. I will be your lookout.”

Brenna shook her head. “Orman wants me to wait right here for him.”

“Orman is searching the ship with everyone else,” she said with a wink. “He’ll never have to know.”

* * * * *

While the others searched the boat for Marissa, Brenna seized the opportunity to enter Hallie’s suite. She searched all the normal places that she suspected Hallie would hide something valuable. She looked through a chest of drawers, but there was nothing to be found except some neatly folded clothes.

Brenna opened Hallie’s suitcase. Upon finding it empty, she unzipped and searched every pocket thoroughly before concluding there was nothing in the bag.

She decided that Hallie wouldn’t put this file just anywhere. She had to turn over everything in the entire suite if she wished to find what she was looking for.

Brenna felt under the sofa and chairs. She lifted cushions. She undid the bed, searching the sheets and pillows. She lifted the mattress from the boxspring, finding nothing flattened in between.

Finally, she found herself in the bathroom. She immediately searched the cabinet underneath the sink. Yet, she found nothing but a few rolls of tissue and some other toiletries.

“Damn! It has to be here,” she cried, feeling increasingly irritated as the heat from her body rose a few degrees in fruitless search.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Chelsea. Just getting frustrated,” Brenna said with a sigh, looking towards the entrance where her friend was perched. “Just focus on keeping a look out.”

Brenna walked out of the bathroom and found her eyes drifting across everything in the room. Yet, everything her eyes were laid upon had already been searched. Agitated and ready to give up, Brenna’s eyes had stopped scanning the room and rested on an air vent, located on the floor by the nightstand.

She flung herself to her knees and tried to pry open the vent. To her surprise, it popped open quite nicely as if it had never been screwed in place. Looking into the hole in the floor, Brenna saw something in the bottom. Sticking her arm into the duct, she brushed it with her fingertips, realizing it was exactly what she was looking for. Grasping hold of the file, she pulled it out of the hole.

Making herself comfortable, she sat on the floor Indian style and opened the file. Not knowing what she would find, she flipped through its contents quickly, feeling the need to answer the questions in her head.

As she scanned the contents of the file, she realized what Hallie had been up to the past year. Feeling her heartbeat quicken, Brenna had found pictures of herself, taken without her knowledge, throughout the year. She found a homemade map of Camp Summerwind with the location of each camp counselor on the night of her sister’s accident marked in red ink. However, the locations of two camp counselors were missing: Chelsea’s and hers!

Searching deeper, Brenna found a correspondence from the camp. Hallie had asked them for information regarding Chelsea. She wanted to know how long Chelsea had been a counselor? What group was she in charge of? Had she had contact with Morgan?

The camp’s response was swift.

Brenna read the letter aloud. “As we are unable to disclose specific information with regard to our counselors, and such information is restricted for the privacy of our institution and of the individuals who work here, the full disclosure of the information you seek has been denied. However, it is not a violation of our policies to inform you that no such person exists within our institution or has ever existed.”

As the letter shook within her grasp, Brenna read the letter again, but there was no mistake. Chelsea had never worked for Camp Summerwind. Brenna wondered if it had been a mistake. Chelsea had to have worked there. After all, she met her at the camp, and they had talked about managing camp groups.

Brenna wanted to call out to Chelsea, but she had no words. What did she know about Chelsea? She wracked her brain for answers. Chelsea had just appeared into her life. One day she was just there as if she had always been. The friendship was instant. They just understood one another. They liked the same things. How could she not be who she knew her to be?

“What are you doing?” Hallie walked into the room, finding her things thrown all over the suite. “What did you do?”

Brenna looked up in shock, wondering why Chelsea hadn’t warned her that Hallie was coming. “What have you done?” she questioned, holding up the file for Hallie to see. “You’ve been following me!”

“I needed to know,” Hallie shouted at her.

“Know what?”

“I needed to know if you were involved,” Hallie told her, glaring.

“Morgan is dead, Hallie. No one is to blame. It was an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she told her through gritted teeth. “You know it wasn’t.”

Brenna shook her head. “Stop this! Stop treating me like I am the enemy. It was an accident. Everyone can see it but you! You need help, Hallie. You can’t just go around accusing people.”

“Where is Marissa? Did you have anything to do with her disappearance?” Hallie said, doing little to mask her hatred.

“No,” Brenna said in a whisper, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Do you really expect me to believe she just got lost or whatever Orman is trying to convince everyone of?” Hallie questioned angrily.

“I don’t know,” she told her at a loss for words as hot tears began to stream down her face at the mention of her missing friend. “I don’t know anything.”

“How well do you know your friend Chelsea?”

“You are delusional if you are going to blame Chelsea for any of this.”

“How did you meet her?”

Brenna backed away from Hallie. Her mind raced. She couldn’t think. She was so confused.

Images of Chelsea popped in her head. Chelsea... just appeared in her life one day, but she couldn’t pinpoint the exact time. The memory of their first encounter evaded her. Brenna found herself frightened by this. How had she forgotten?

“Where is Chelsea, Bren? I haven’t seen her since I boarded. Why else would she be hiding from me?” Hallie told her. “Something happened to my sister, and I know you know something about it. Something is not right about you, Bren, and I am determined to find out.”

* * * * *

Brenna ran to her suite in tears. Confused, she wondered how Hallie could ever believe she had anything to do with her sister’s death. She would have never hurt Morgan or Marissa. She loved them like sisters.

She threw herself on the bed and began to cry. She was so confused. Why did Marissa have to fall overboard? Why was she even on the balcony and where did the blood on the bracelet come from? Why did Orman feel it was better to throw the bracelet overboard? Was he trying to prevent a scandal? A girl murdered at sea would be a sensational story. Or was Marissa’s disappearance merely an accident?

Hours passed, but Brenna remained in her room. She refused to share the same space as any of the people she once called her friends. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t know her friends at all. She had a glimpse at the real person within each of them, and in that instant, their true colors were apparent to her. They blamed her.

They blamed her misfortune. They blamed her for Morgan all along. They never trusted her. They only waited for the right opportunity to destroy her life, and she never saw it before. Were they making up Marissa’s disappearance to mess with her mind? Or to force her to confess to Morgan’s accident?

She had never heard of any rivalry with Marissa. She had never heard of any bad blood existing between them and Marissa. The idea that any of them disliked Marissa was a new one. In her suspicious mind, any of them could have knocked her off balance and thrown her over the railing. Or, at least, faked it to drive Brenna insane. The ship was huge. Marissa could have been hiding anywhere, and Brenna didn’t join the others in searching the ship.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Brenna didn’t respond, remaining quiet and hoping her visitor would go away.

After a short while, Dylan stepped into the room without being invited.

“We couldn’t find Marissa. The coast guard gave the captain the okay to dock at the nearest port,” he informed her sadly. “The authorities are going to inspect the ship thoroughly there. They want to go through her things. Orman said she was pretty drunk last night so it should be cited as an accident.”

“Is there a reason you are telling me this?” Brenna questioned, sitting up in bed.

“We are going to dock in Miami for a few hours. The rest of us decided to cut this trip short and head back home.”

“Fine,” Brenna answered shortly.

After a long moment, Dylan walked across the room and sat on the edge of Brenna’s bed. “What are you thinking? You look... scared.”

“I can’t believe it,” she told him, her tone as soft as a whisper.

He nodded.

“The pieces don’t fit,” she said, thinking aloud. “This trip has been a disaster from the beginning. We have been more at odds with each other than ever before.”

He stared at her, appearing to try to follow her thought pattern.

“Things just don’t make sense in my head right now,” she said, mashing her palms into her forehead.

With his green eyes intent, Dylan grabbed her hands to prevent her from injuring herself. “Talk to me. What is going on in your head right now?”

“No one could fall off that railing,” she told him. “It was a calm night. There weren’t any huge waves rocking the boat. She would have had to climb over the railing and fall over.”

“She could have decided to end her life by drowning herself.”

Brenna scoffed. “She was not suicidal.”

Dylan looked at her pensively. “You didn’t know Marissa.”

“She was one of my closest friends, Dylan. I knew her better than anyone else on this boat,” she told him matter-of-factly.

“You knew the side she wanted you to see,” Dylan said, running his hands through his black hair. “You didn’t know the real Marissa.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked softly, trying her best to make sense of the circumstances she found herself in.

Dylan hesitated.

“Tell me, Dylan. Tell me the truth for once in your life,” Brenna scolded, her mind racing with what Marissa could have had over his head. “Did Marissa know about you and Morgan? Were the two of you together?”

He shook his head. “Hallie convinced her I was seeing Morgan while we were dating. Before the accident last summer, there was a fling. I didn’t want to hurt you, Brenna. I thought if I just pretended like it didn’t happen, then it would all be wiped away. Then Morgan died, and Hallie suspected me. She suspected you. You were different. I had never seen you so depressed. You just isolated yourself, and focused only on school. Your chance for a scholarship seemed more important than me.”

“I was trying to cope with my friend’s death by doing what I do best. School work was a way out of what I was feeling. The more work the less I had to feel. I was not punishing you,” Brenna told him, trying hard to listen to him without judgment. Yet, she was hurt. Everyone had disappointed her, but none more than Dylan. “What did Marissa threaten to do?”

“Marissa found out everything last summer before school ended and you went to work at the camp. She said she was going to tell you if I didn’t stop seeing Morgan,” he said shamefully. “I wanted to. I knew it wasn’t right. Morgan was furious though. She didn’t want to let go.”

Brenna folded her hands over her chest. “And?”

“After Morgan’s accident, Marissa just wouldn’t let it go. I think Hallie had convinced her that something was not right about the way Morgan died. She said you were her best friend, and she had to be honest with you. She was going to tell you during this trip. That’s why I didn’t want to come,” he said, looking heartbroken. “I felt like she was toying with me. She held that secret over my head like she enjoyed torturing me. She was cruel that way. Orman told me some things she did to him. She was not the person you thought she was. I couldn’t take being with her on this boat. She threatened me all of the time, following me around the boat.”

Brenna stood quietly, unable to find the words that would justify how she felt. She had been lied to by the two people she trusted; her boyfriend and her best friend. “You should have told me.”

“I shouldn’t have kept anything from you,” he said, looking at the floor. “I guess I wanted to hurt you at first, but I didn’t realize how that would make me feel. I feel like such an idiot.”

Surprised and confused, Brenna asked, “Why would you want to hurt me?”

Dylan gawked at her. “Morgan told me how you felt. That is why I started seeing her secretly last spring.”

“What are you talking about, Dylan?”

“She told me how you would say you didn’t feel anything for me anymore. She said you were ready to move on. You told her it was practically over.”

Brenna shook her head. “I never told Morgan anything like that.”

“So, you didn’t say those things?”

“No. Morgan knew how in love I was. I wasn’t going to break up with you last year,” she said, frustrated. “She just told you that.”

Dylan’s face dropped. “Why would she do―”

“Because she wasn’t the friend I thought she was,” Brenna concluded, feeling drained by the conversation. Marissa threatening Dylan over a short-lived romance with Morgan seemed like too much to believe. Brenna couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that everyone she knew had lied or kept things from her. “None of you were.”

* * * * *

Brenna awoke with a start. She had the same dream... of Morgan hitting her in the head with a paddle. It seemed more vivid this time. She could feel the pounding pain of being hit. She felt her body sink under the waves, feeling halfway conscious. Her world went still momentarily.

But then she woke up.

Why was Brenna having these dreams? Did she feel guilty about something? Did she do something wrong?

Confused, Brenna got up from bed and went to find Orman. He said he would give her all of the answers, but he never showed up at her suite. Orman was pretty predictable, and she knew exactly where she could find him. He didn’t wander too faraway from the bar at night.

Brenna went to the dance club and found Orman passed out on the bar. Shaking him until he almost fell over, he began to stir from his sleep. His unfocused eyes stared at Brenna, and he smiled.

“Hey, Bren,” he said, smelling of liquor. “Do you want a drink?”

“No,” she told him. “Get up. I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Not now, Bren. Let me sleep.”

“Did you push her over?” Brenna asked him, point blank. “You weren’t in the room last night.”

Orman’s mood immediately changed. “Are you crazy? Now, you are blaming me?”

Brenna looked up at him. “I know what I heard last night. It sounded like a body being dragged and thrown over the railing.”

“What makes you think I would hurt Marissa?”

Brenna shook her head. “Dylan mentioned she did horrible things to you. I feel like I didn’t know her at all. Like I don’t know any of you.”

“I didn’t hurt her,” Orman said somberly, his blue eyes afire. “But I know who did and you do, too.”

“Who?”

“Don’t you remember?” he asked, confused. “Don’t you remember how she asked to speak to you privately?”

Brenna gawked at him, dumbfounded. Her mind raced as quickly as her pulse. “Tha―that nev―never happened, Orman,” she stumbled over her words, feeling as if she couldn’t put a cohesive thought together.

“Yes, it did,” he said bitterly, inching toward her until his breath caressed her face. “You went with her to her cabin. She said things you didn’t want to hear.”

Brenna began to hyperventilate. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest. Her eyes fluttered uncontrollably, feeling as if she was about to black out. “No,” she said weakly, trying to block out Orman’s words. “I was asleep... and I heard a hor―horrible sound.”

“Everything I did was for you, Bren. I have always loved you. If Dylan wasn’t in the picture, we would have been together,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders. “But he doesn’t have to be in the picture.”

“Let go of me,” Brenna shouted, breaking free of his grasp and running as fast as she could. But she couldn’t run fast enough away from his words. Something resonated within her. Something clicked in her head, and her mind became inundated with images. The dark cloud that separated her from her memories had lifted slightly, and she saw beyond the veil.

Reaching the upper deck, Brenna bent over the railing and began to vomit. Her mind was moving at a dizzying pace, and she felt sick as a vision appeared before her eyes.

Marissa ushered her into her suite and lead her into the sitting area. “So, I wanted to talk to you, because I’ve been holding back something, and I can’t hold it in anymore. I just have to get this off my chest.”

“I’m tired, Marissa. I want to go to bed so go ahead and spill it,” Brenna told her, yawning.

“Brenna, I need to hear the truth from your lips,” Marissa told her, appearing concerned. “No more lies.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, bewildered by her friend’s words.

“Did you kill her?” Marissa asked bluntly, tears rimming her eyes.

Brenna stood up abruptly. “What are you accusing me of?”

“I know the truth... and it wasn’t hard to put things together,” Marissa said, standing and crossing her arms. “How could you do it? She was our best friend.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Brenna shouted at her, feeling her insides turning.

“What was Morgan doing on that rowboat? Was she meeting you? Did you find out about her and Dylan?”

Brenna covered her ears in an attempt to block out Marissa’s questions. “Stop!”

Marissa angrily grasped her arms and shook her. “Tell me! I need to hear it!”

“Stop!”

“How did you do it?”

Trying to quiet her, Brenna pushed her away with all of her force.

Marissa fell over, hitting her head on the corner of the coffee table. Marissa screamed. When she hit the ground, the air was pushed out of her lungs and she was silent. Within seconds, she sat up, wiping her head and exposing the inch-long gash on her forehead. She showed Brenna the blood on her hands. “I’m bleeding!” she screamed, glaring at her. “You did that on purpose!”

“No,” Brenna said, shaking her head. “No, it was an accident!”

“Is that how you killed her?” Marissa asked furiously as she collected herself from the floor. “You made her hit her head on the boat.”

“No!” Brenna said, crying. She collapsed on the couch and began to rock herself. She was about to lose control. She could feel the rage welling within her. How could Marissa do this to her? How could she corner her like this?

“Things just didn’t make sense,” Marissa said as if thinking aloud, holding her head in an effort to stop the blood from flowing out. “I guess I always suspected, but Hallie’s suspicions confirmed it for me. I mean what was Morgan doing out there? It was raining. She knew better than to be on a rowboat in the rain. She wouldn’t have stood up on a rowboat so how could she have slipped and hit her head on the side. Then there was the missing oar. They dragged the lake and still couldn’t find it. You took it with you, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Brenna warned her, grinding her teeth together.

“I knew you had a dark side. No one could be that perfect all the time,” she said with a giggle. “Good little Brenna murdered her best friend... For what? A boy?”

“Shut your mouth, Marissa,” Brenna told her, shaking uncontrollably.

As blood seeped down her cheek, Marissa whispered to herself, “Wait until everyone hears about this. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t put it together myself.”

Suddenly, Brenna felt as if she was outside of herself. She stood at the corner of the room, watching the scene in horror.

She saw her head snap up, and her expression changed from fear to one of menace. She grimaced, baring her teeth in a manic expression.

As Marissa continued to talk to herself, she saw herself stand up and grab an abstract bronze sculpture that was perched on a side table. She crept up behind her as she was lost in thought. In one swift movement, Brenna watched as she struck Marissa over her head with all of her strength.

CRACK. The sound of Marissa’s skull breaking filled the room.

Marissa didn’t have a chance. Her body instantly crumbled to the floor, and she lost consciousness. Brenna stood over her and continued to pummel her with blows to the head.

“Brenna, stop!”

Orman pushed her off Marissa, taking in the scene before him in horror.

Brenna almost turned on him, but then she came into herself again and regained some her senses. “She said something I didn’t like,” she told him coldly, feeling empty inside.

“S**t, Bren! She is dead,” he told her, looking down at Marissa’s bludgeoned body.

“She said something I didn’t like,” she repeated mechanically, unable to bring herself to feel anything but hate.

Orman appeared worried. “Okay, I am going to fix this,” he said, pacing the carpet as he thought.

Brenna got up and walked out on the balcony, tossing the sculpture into the bottomless black sea.

“Help me, Brenna,” Orman shouted as he began to drag Marissa’s body across the floor.

Brenna ran over to him and grabbed her legs. They carried her out onto the balcony and swung her over the rail, throwing her lifeless body into the ocean.

“I’ll clean up,” he told her, brushing her hair out of her face. “Go wash up. You have blood all over you.”

Brenna glanced down at herself absentmindedly, realizing the splatter stains. “Are you mad at me, Orman?” she asked him, sounding like a child in trouble.

“I can never be mad at you... I love you, Brenna. I always have,” he told her, holding her in an embrace. “I am not Dylan. I will protect you. We will fix this, because I love you.”

His words didn’t make sense to her in her fragile state of mind, and they did little to evoke any real emotion. She slipped from his grasp and walked robotically to her suite. She calmly washed up and went to bed.

Brenna grasped the railings, coming back into the present. Tears streamed down her face, flowing freely down her cheeks and pooling at her jaw. Her head momentarily stopped spinning as she gulped in air by the mouthful. She was shaking from head to toe as she gripped the banister for support.

She stumbled off the deck and walked unsteadily through the halls until she found herself outside Chelsea’s suite.

Sobbing, Brenna pounded on the door. “Chelsea, let me in!”

When there was no response, Brenna opened the door and walked into the dark room, searching the walls for the light switch. “Chelsea?”

Flipping the switch on, Brenna stared around the room in shock. There were no signs of Chelsea. There were no clothes. No suitcase. No personal knick-knacks. Nothing. She just vanished. The suite was empty as if she had never been there at all.

“Brenna, what are you doing?” Hallie asked, peeking into the suite from the hall.

Brenna didn’t turn to face her uninvited guest. Instead, she chose to remain silent and hope Hallie would be wise enough to leave.

Hallie entered the suite, standing behind Brenna. “I have been watching you as you come and go, walking in and out of this suite for the passed few days now. What are you hiding in here?”

“Hallie, leave me alone,” Brenna told her, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and anger.

“I won’t. Not until you tell me what you are up to?”

Brenna faced Hallie. “This is Chelsea’s suite, Hallie,” she told her matter-of-factly, wiping away her tears in an attempt to appear presentable.

“Chelsea’s suite?” she asked calmly, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! I really need to talk to her so please go,” Brenna shouted, ready to burst into hysterics.

“Brenna, this room has been sitting empty since we got here,” she told her matter-of-factly. “I should know...”

“What did you do?” Brenna questioned.

“I broke into it a few times to see what you were doing in here,” Hallie admitted. “You have been acting suspicious since you got here so why would I not follow you.”

“You are crazy, Hallie!”

“You are the only crazy one, Brenna,” Hallie shouted at her. “Did you ever stop to think why you are the only one that has seen Chelsea?”

Brenna gawked at her. “What are you saying?”

“Chelsea doesn’t exist, Brenna!” Hallie exclaimed.

“Yes, she does!” she cried, hyperventilating. She could feel a tickle in the back of her mind like a memory was about to be made clear.

“Then, where did you meet her?”

“At camp,” Brenna said, feeling unsure and confused as she wracked her brain for questions. “She was just there one day.”

“How? How was she just there?” she questioned, appearing desperate for answers.

Sobbing and holding her head in her hands in an attempt to get a grasp on her emotions, Brenna felt a memory was on the verge of being recalled. A memory which had been lost to her for a year. It was a memory that her mind wasn’t ready to let escape from the void, and an inward struggle ensued.

“I checked everywhere! Camp Summerwind never heard of her,” she said sternly, holding her index finger down with her other hand in a counting motion. “I questioned the camp counselors that worked with you last summer. No one knew who I was talking about! They did remember how weird you were acting though, going into the woods alone at night.”

Trying hard to hold herself together, Brenna began to shake again.

“I even looked into town hall records! There were no births of anyone named Chelsea Erving in the passed twenty years! That is because there is no Chelsea Erving! She exists only in your imagination!”

Hyperventilating, Brenna needed air. She could feel her psyche begin to snap, and she feared that if she didn’t break away from this situation, it had the potential to be deadly. “Get away from me right now,” Brenna warned through gritted teeth, holding her hands in the air in a motion of defense.

“I need to know... what happened to my sister, Brenna,” Hallie asked with her feelings ranging from sadness to anger.

Brenna gave in to the visions that began to bombard her fragile mind. “I need to think, Hallie,” she said, feeling as if she were ready to lose control. “I can’t breathe. I can’t think...”

It was a rainy night. Morgan had invited Brenna for a midnight swim hours before, but when the sky turned dark and it began to pour, Brenna tried to cancel their plans. But Morgan wouldn’t hear of it. She said she had to discuss something important with her. So, Brenna met her by the dock, and they took the rowboat out on the lake.

Sinking deeper into her raincoat, Brenna asked over the loud roar of the rain, “What are we doing out here, Morgan? We should go back. This is dangerous!

“Stop being such a wimp and live a little,” Morgan said with a devilish twinkle in her eyes.

“That is exactly what I plan to do,” Brenna retorted sarcastically. “I want to live, not die!”

“I really don’t understand what Dylan sees in you, Brenna,” she commented, rowing the metal rowboat towards the center of the lake. The metal groaned with each movement of the heavy wooden oars, and the rainwater began to gather in the bottom of the vessel. “He is so much more adventurous. You’re so safe! So boring!”

Brenna brushed off her comments, worriedly looking out at the black water which surrounded the boat.

“I like to live my life dangerously,” she said stopping the rowboat halfway across the two-mile wide lake.

“What are you doing?” Brenna asked, panicking as she watched Morgan remove the oars from the side of the boat and place them into the vessel.

“We are staying put,” she told her, adjusting her rain slicker as the downpour became more intense.

Hyperventilating, Brenna begged Morgan, but she ignored her. “Morgan, we have to go back! We are going to sink out here, and you know I can’t swim!”

“You have something I want,” Morgan said menacingly, grinning wickedly.

Brenna recognized her expression.

Morgan was the rich one. Morgan’s parents gave her whatever she wanted without question. She was used to getting what she wanted. Like when they were seven years old and she wanted a doll Brenna got for Christmas. She cried and cried until Brenna’s mother gave it to her with the promise of buying another one for Brenna, but that never happened.

Or the time when their parents brought them to the playground. There was a big wooden play set, complete with fortress and slide. Morgan claimed the slide on the playground for herself, and Brenna decided to disobey Morgan’s orders, going down the shoot first. By the time Brenna climbed the ladder for another round on the slide, Morgan was waiting and pushed her off the wooden ladder. Brenna flew through the air, landing on her arm with a crack. It was broken in two places.

That was the kind of friend Morgan Seymour was. She was the leader of their little pack. Brenna, Marissa and Hallie were just followers. As long as they obeyed her, she was the sweetest person to be around, but she was rotten to the core. If you had something she wanted, watch out!

“What do you want from me, Morgan?” Brenna asked, fearing her reply.

Morgan smiled, giving Brenna a chill that went up her spine. “I want Dylan, Brenna, and you are going to give him to me.”

Brenna stared at her in shock. “But Morgan, please... I―”

“I want him!” Morgan whined, grasping an oar.

“He is not mine to give, Morgan. Dylan has a mind of his own, and he wants to be with me!” Brenna shouted at her, feeling trapped and afraid.

“He’s mine!” Morgan shouted, swinging the oar and hitting Brenna on the side of her head with it.

Semi-conscious, Brenna fell back into the bottom of the rowboat. Shaking, she ran her hand through her hair, feeling her wound. When she brought her hand to her face, it was caked in bright red blood. Sobbing, Brenna asked, “What did you do?”

“Why did you have to talk back to me, Brenna? Why couldn’t you just give me what I wanted?” Morgan asked cruelly, dropping the oar and standing before Brenna.

Brenna stared back at her in disbelief as her tears mixed in with the raindrops.

“He is mine. He wants me... but you don’t get that. You just won’t go away,” Morgan rambled. “So, I am going to make you go away.”

Morgan reached for the oar once more, and knowing what she had planned, Brenna kicked her as hard as she could in her gut. The sudden impact made Morgan lose her balance. She fell off the rowboat and into the water.

When Morgan resurfaced, she was five feet out. Brenna watched as she bobbed along the surface of the water, trying to swim back towards the boat. “I am going to kill you,” she growled, reaching for the rim of the boat and trying to climb back in.

Without thinking, Brenna scooped up the oar and swung it like a baseball bat until it made contact with Morgan’s skull.

Morgan howled as she sunk back into the water, using her remaining strength to stay afloat. “Are you going to kill me, Brenna?” she asked as blood streaked her face. “You don’t have the guts.”

Brenna stood up on the small vessel and looked down at her in the water. “I don’t want to, Morgan,” she cried, still grasping the oar.

“I am going to take everything from you,” Morgan ranted. “I won’t stop! Everything you have will be mine!”

Brenna knew Morgan had always been jealous of her. She had loving parents. She had a good boyfriend. She had people that genuinely cared around her. Morgan had nothing. Nothing but money. She wouldn’t stop tormenting her until she was dead. “Please, Morgan, don’t... make me.”

“I’ll kill you!” Morgan shouted.

Holding the heavy, wooden oar over her head, Brenna brought it down on Morgan’s head. She heard a crack that was similar to the sound of thunder as it penetrated the silent night. In shock, Brenna realized she had hit her so hard she broke the oar, splintering it into two pieces. When her eyes made contact with Morgan once more, she saw the horrific sight of her friend’s lifeless body, floating along the surface of the water.

Hyperventilating, Brenna began to struggle for breath. Her breaths came out in ragged expirations, and she felt faint.

Shaking, she grabbed her chest, feeling her heart ache. The feeling of her heart beating over a hundred beats per minute made her legs begin to buckle.

Suddenly, Brenna realized she wasn’t the only one standing atop the rowboat. Confused, Brenna looked beside her and saw a familiar face.

“I am Chelsea,” the girl smiled.

Brenna stared at her confused. She seemed unaffected by the elements around her. She was completely dry. She stood next to Brenna like an angel of mercy. Not a hair out of place.

“I... didn’t mean to,” Brenna told her.

“Shhh, I am going to take care of everything,” Chelsea told her calmly. “Now, let’s row back to shore.”

Brenna followed Chelsea’s instructions, leaving Morgan’s body in the water. Once they reached the dock, Chelsea told her to remove the broken paddle and her boots.

“No dog can follow a scent through water. There is no chance with this rain that your scent will be on this boat,” she told Brenna, kicking the boat away from the dock so that it floated back into deeper water. “It wouldn’t be uncommon for a boat to drift away from the scene of an accident.”

Brenna stared at her silently, untying her boots.

“They will be able to follow your tracks in this mud. So, once you are done taking off your boots, you are going to drag your feet along the mud. The rain should wash away any evidence, but if it doesn’t, it won’t look like a boot print.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?” Brenna asked, slowly awakening from her shock.

“I am your other half, Brenna,” Chelsea told her. “Your stronger half. I will always take care of you. You are apart of me.”

Chelsea wasn’t real. She was just a coping mechanism that Brenna’s brain thought up. Chelsea was able to think clearer and took over when Brenna wasn’t ready to deal with her problems. It is funny what will happen when you are hit over the head with a paddle, Brenna thought with a sad smile.

“Just tell me the truth,” Hallie begged.

Brenna began to walk to her room, but Hallie blocked her exit.

“You are not leaving until you tell me the truth!”

Then Brenna snapped. Her posture changed, and her inner storm suddenly went silent. A sense of calm washed over her. Her heart stilled, and her breathing decreased until each expiration was inaudible. In a deep voice that she didn’t recognize, Brenna heard herself say, “Your sister got what she deserved.”

* * * * *

An hour had passed since Hallie ran away in tears. Brenna sat quietly in her room, feeling as if she were looking at the world through new eyes. She had regained her memories and realized what Chelsea was. She was no longer the confused girl that boarded the ship a few days ago. She felt like a new person. She was fearless.

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called.

Dylan entered, forgetting to close the door behind him. “Is it true? Did you kill Morgan?”

“Me?” Brenna asked with mock disbelief, placing a hand on her chest.

“Hallie came to me crying. She said you practically admitted it,” Dylan explained, enraged.

“Hallie is still grieving,” Brenna told him calmly. “She doesn’t know what she heard.”

“Well, what did you tell her then?”

Brenna stared at him squarely in the eyes. “I told her that her sister deserved what happened to her.”

Dylan stared back at Brenna, appearing surprised. “What?”

“I told her that Morgan deserved what happened to her,” Brenna told him matter-of-factly. “I don’t regret saying it. Hallie has to understand her sister wasn’t the saint she remembers.”

“What has gotten into you, Brenna?” Dylan questioned angrily. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No, I have just regained it,” Brenna told him, watching as Orman entered the room soundlessly.

He was obviously drunk, holding a half empty wine bottle in his hands.

“If you had anything to do with Morgan’s death or Marissa’s disappearance, I won’t help you, Brenna,” he told her, fuming. “I don’t want anything to do with you!”

She watched as Orman crept up behind Dylan, taking hold of him and throwing him against the wall. “Stay away from her!” Orman screamed at him. Before Dylan could react, he turned over the wine bottle and broke it over Dylan’s head.

“Orman, no!” she screamed, but it was too late. She watched as Dylan collapsed on the floor unconscious.

“He shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. Didn’t he know you are my girl? No one talks to my girl that way. Now, I have to finish him,” Orman rambled with malice in his eyes, holding the broken bottle in his hands.

Brenna stared back at Orman, shaking. Her heart began to pump harder in her chest. Orman had hurt Dylan. Dylan... was her only love. He was the reason for everything. He was the reason she had to kill Morgan. She had to kill Marissa, because she knew about Morgan’s fling with Dylan. He was at the root of everything she had done, but she couldn’t bear a world without him.

The idea of losing him made her panic inwardly. Knowing better than to show emotion while Orman was watching, Brenna had to think quickly. But the answer came to her when Chelsea appeared to her.

She was standing in a corner, staring back at her. “This is your chance... to shift the blame.”

Brenna nodded back at her before she disappeared, realizing she could use this situation to her advantage.

“You’re mine, Brenna. Don’t you get that?” Orman asked her, appearing frustrated. “We can get revenge on everyone who wronged us. No one will stand a chance. They will never catch us. Not with my money. We can hide all over the world.”

Brenna calmly stood up and walked calmly towards Orman. She stood close, staring into his eyes. “Let me finish it,” she whispered, running her hand along his arm until she reached the bottle.

He nodded, handing Brenna the broken bottle.

She took the spout of the bottle in her hands as she caressed Orman’s face with her other hand. “Don’t worry, Orman,” she told him quietly. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

Without warning, she kicked him in the shin, causing him to lose balance. He landed on the floor with a hard thud as the air escaped his lungs in a single whoosh.

Brenna threw herself and landed on him, bringing down the broken bottle on his abdomen. In a frenzy, she stabbed him over and over with the jagged edges of the bottle. She watched as Orman lost consciousness.

When he breathed his last breath, Brenna was by his side, holding his hand. “I’m sorry, Orman,” she told him. “But you are going to save my life.”

Brenna looked back at Dylan as his eyes began to flutter. She ran to him and crouched down before him. “Dylan, wake up!” Brenna cried, feigning fear. “Dylan!”

His eyes fluttered open.

“What the hell happened?” Dylan asked angrily, sitting up and then regretting the decision when pain rattled his skull. “Where’s Orman?”

“Orman went crazy! He tried to kill you,” Brenna spat out without breathing, keeping Dylan’s eyes on her. “He was going to kill me, but I caught him off guard. I had to defend myself.”

Dylan grabbed Brenna, holding her tightly in his strong arms.

“Oh, God,” she cried, trying her best to appear frantic. “He killed Morgan, because she rejected him. He killed Marissa, too. She told me he got mad when she wouldn’t go out with him again. He was going to kill us all!”

Dylan’s body stiffened as he caught a glimpse of Orman’s lifeless body. “I am sorry, Brenna... I am sorry I ever doubted you,” he told her, sounding overwhelmed.

Brenna smiled, sinking her face into his chest. “It’s okay,” she reassured him, feeling safe from suspicion once more.

“No, it’s not,” he said, forcing her to face him. “I listened to other people for too long that I didn’t pay attention to what I was feeling. I love you, Bren.”

Brenna held Dylan’s face in her hands, feeling as if everything she did was worth this moment. “I do, too,” she told him, finally feeling as if they were on the same page. She embraced him, holding him close. With her head positioned in the crook of his shoulder, she smiled to herself, feeling whole once more. “Nothing can ever tear us apart again.”

THE END

* * * * *

Message to the Reader:

Thank you for reading “Overboard”. For more information on upcoming novels, releases, freebies, promotions, etc., please join my mailing list by entering your email in the mailing list box on http://www.sandramadera.com and http://sandra-madera.blogspot.com or emailing me directly at [email protected]. Also, don’t be shy and add me on social media. I love hearing form you. Tell me what you thought about my latest short or other ebooks by commenting online, submitting reviews or sending me an email. I read everything I am sent and do try to get back to everyone I can. Thanks!

Connect with Me Online:

Website: http://www.sandramadera.com

My Blog: http://sandra-madera.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/s.madera.writer

Twitter: http://twitter.com/S_Madera

Google+: https://plus.google.com/117092507235288400262/posts

Instagram: http://instagram.com/S_Madera

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sandramadera

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/S_Madera

Zazzle Store: http://www.zazzle.com/sandramadera