Chapter 10

Day Thirteen – The Line

The reef kept giving, but only because he kept taking.

Every morning, he was in the water before the sun cleared the palms. Every evening, he walked out with enough fish, lobster, or octopus to keep four bellies full and four minds focused on one simple truth: their next breath of life came from his hands.

By day thirteen, the dynamic had shifted so completely that no one even pretended otherwise.

He came back at dusk with a string of six fat red snapper and a young green turtle he’d flipped on the outer reef. Enough for days.

The girls were waiting exactly where he’d left them: Kimberly kneeling by the cleaned cooking stones, Brittany and Jennifer sitting cross-legged nearby, hands folded in their laps like schoolgirls. They’d learned. Work finished early meant permission to sit. Permission to sit meant waiting for him.

He dropped the haul at Kimberly’s knees.

“Clean them,” he said.

She reached for the knife without looking up. “Yes, Taylor.”

The word came out soft, automatic. It had been three days since she’d used his last name.

Brittany’s eyes flicked to him, bright with something between hunger and awe. Jennifer’s gaze lingered longer, openly appreciative.

He let the silence stretch while the snappers were gutted and the turtle butchered. The only sounds were the surf, the quick rasp of the knife, and the soft, involuntary noises the girls made when their stomachs clenched at the smell of fresh meat.