Sara Shepard - Burned

But when the screen loaded, there weren’t any messages in the Gmail inbox at all. Frowning, Hanna clicked on some of the other folders within the server, but they were all empty. The conversation Naomi had had with Madison was gone, almost like it had never existed.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe .

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe .

Emily reached the wall, did a flip turn, and pushed off toward the other side of the pool. Her arms cut rhythmically through the water. Her legs kicked with full power. Halfway down the lane, she had to swim around a fun noodle, then a floating toy that looked suspiciously like a giant penis. The pool technically wasn’t for lap swimming at that time of day—plenty of kids were milling around in the water, soaking up the Bermuda sun. But swimming laps was the only thing that helped Emily think, and she needed to think as hard as she possibly could. She hadn’t yet given Jordan an answer about running away with her, but Jeremy had just announced that they were pulling into Bermuda. She had to make a decision soon.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe .

Could she really leave Rosewood forever? Never see her family again? And was it really safe, going off with a criminal? What if someone hunted Jordan down and hauled her back to the States? Then what would Emily do?

But then she thought about Thailand. She’d looked up the beaches online last night and almost swooned. There were tons of posts about the country that said it was easy-going, clean, affordable, and accepting. No one cares what you do here , someone had written. You are free to be yourself . Wasn’t that what Emily wanted? Wasn’t that not what Rosewood—or a swimming future at UNC—could ever provide?

She could wake up every morning next to Jordan. They could go shopping in the Thai markets, travel to remote and amazing villages, make pilgrimages to other countries. Maybe she could teach English, like Jordan was thinking of doing.

Her mother’s scowling face floated into her mind, then her father’s. Carolyn’s appeared next followed by Beth’s and Jake’s. Going to Thailand meant leaving her family behind. All she wanted was for them to love her, and they couldn’t. Maybe it was a good thing to flee from the pain. Maybe Jordan could be her family instead.

She swam to the end of the lane and grabbed the edge of the pool. Hanna was sitting in one of the lounge chairs, and Emily flagged her over.

Hanna looked pale beneath her tan. Emily could tell she was still upset about what she’d found—and what she hadn’t found—on Naomi’s computer.

“What’s up?” Hanna asked.

Emily ran her fingers across the pool’s surface, unable to meet Hanna’s eye. “What do you know about Thailand?”

Hanna frowned. “I’ve heard it’s pretty cool, I guess. Why?”

Emily bit her lip. “If you had the opportunity to go there, to leave all this behind, would you?”

“Sure,” Hanna said emphatically.

All of a sudden, Emily’s mind felt as clear and cloudless as the sky. She pushed out of the pool, hurried across the deck, and grabbed her towel. Hanna followed her. “Wait. What’s this all about? Are you going to Thailand?”

“Of course not,” Emily said quickly. But her voice caught.

Hanna frowned. “Emily. What are you planning?”

Emily gazed at her friend for a beat. All at once, Emily thought of the sleepovers at Ali’s house when she and Hanna would be the last two girls to fall asleep. “Let’s look through Ali’s photo albums,” Hanna had whispered once, and they had turned the pages of the old book by nightlight. “She doesn’t look so great in that photo,” Hanna would say, pointing at one of Ali from fourth grade or one of Ali without any makeup on Christmas morning. Even though Hanna desperately sought Ali’s worst shots, she seemed to understand that Emily was looking through the albums to see Ali at her very best, and she’d occasionally point out one of Ali looking beautiful. “She has the prettiest eyes, doesn’t she?” she’d say wistfully. Or, “She looks like a model.” All for Emily’s benefit.

Her eyes brimmed with tears from the memory. She’d miss all her best friends terribly.

“I’m not planning anything,” she said, running away before Hanna could stop her.

Off the starboard side of the ship, she could see the Bermuda docks. Kids were already jamming the elevator area to be the first to disembark. Was Jordan among them? Would Emily get to her in time?

The elevators were too crowded, so Emily ran down the three flights to her room in bare feet. She flung open the door and looked around hopefully, but Jordan was already gone. Frantic, she pulled a terry-cloth cover-up over her head, then grabbed her suitcase from under the bed and stuffed her things into it. She slung the bag over her shoulder and scuttled out the door, joining the convoy of kids making their way off the ship.

She clambered down the stairs and burst through the door that led to the ramp. The gangplank had been lowered, and a crowd of kids waited to disembark. Emily stood on her tiptoes and searched for Jordan’s dark hair. When she didn’t see her, her heart jumped into her throat. “Jordan?” she called out. “ Jordan? ” What if she’d missed her? Would Jordan leave without her?

“Jordan?” she cried again.

“Emily?”

Emily swung around. There, under the boat’s exit sign, was Jordan, dressed in a T-shirt Emily had loaned her, a pair of jeans, a baseball cap, and dark sunglasses. Emily’s knees went weak. Jordan’s mouth crumpled into a relieved, ecstatic smile. Emily ran into her arms.

“So does this mean you’re coming?” Jordan said in Emily’s ear.

“I guess it does,” Emily said shakily.

Jordan stepped back and pulled her cell phone from her bag. “This is going to be amazing,” she said excitedly, her eyes shining. “I promise.”

Then she dialed a number and put her phone to her ear. “Hello, Jasmine? I’d like to book an extra ticket to Thailand. Her name is Emily Fields.” She spelled it slowly. “I’ll pay in cash at the airport, okay?”

Emily opened her mouth, ready to say she’d help pay, but then she realized—she didn’t have that kind of money. She didn’t know how Jordan had access to that kind of money, either, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

The line for the door slowly moved up. Emily grabbed Jordan’s hand so she wouldn’t lose her in the crush. As they got closer, Emily could see the docks out the door. The light was so bright, she had to shade her eyes. When it was their turn, Jordan started off the ramp first. Emily followed, her heart pounding. Jordan was halfway down the ramp when she stopped short. Emily bumped into her back.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked. Kids flowed around them like water moved around rocks in a stream.

Jordan’s face had gone ghostly pale. Her gaze was on something out in the water. Emily craned her neck to see what she was looking at. A speedboat was docked next to the ship. A few men in serious-looking uniforms were climbing off. One was speaking into a walkie-talkie. The other looked like he had a gun in his holster. The boat had an official-looking logo on the side. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION.

Emily clapped her hand over her mouth. She watched, paralyzed, as the Feds charged up the dock, straight to the ship. And then she heard one of them say “Katherine DeLong” clearly into his walkie-talkie.

Jordan whipped around to face her. “Did you call them?”

“Of course not!” Emily cried, her eyes widening. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you!”