“I tried to be… sexless, around him. And it worked, at least until this summer. I don’t think it was anything I did, in particular, but we were drawn to each other, very strongly, and then the intimacy started up again.” Chloe wept openly now.

“Sean was torturing himself,” she said.

“He called himself a sinner—I hate that word!—and he thought he was tempting me into joining him in that sin.

He thought he was responsible for my downfall. That’s what he called it, although I don’t agree. I tried to dissuade him from thinking that way, but obviously I wasn’t successful. ” Chloe’s shoulders trembled with her tears, and Daria tightened her arm around her.

“I miss him so much,” Chloe said.

“I’m so sorry, Chloe,” Daria said.

“And I’m sorry you’ve had to keep this all to yourself.” She was worried about Chloe, not just because of what she’d revealed, but because she feared that her sister would come to regret having spoken so openly. She knew Chloe’s confession would never have been given without the protection of darkness and the peculiar atmosphere of the night.

Chloe drew a deep breath, then seemed to pull herself together. “I have a lot of soul-searching to do in the next few weeks,” she said.

“A lot of praying to do. I can’t bear the thought of no longer being a nun, but at the same time, I can’t live with the restrictions… and I can’t live with what those restrictions did to Sean.”

“How can I help?” Daria asked.

Chloe nearly smiled.

“Just be patient with my… preoccupation,” she said. Then she suddenly pressed her hands to her temples.

“I can’t believe I told you all of this,” she said. She looked embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I dumped so much on the two of you.”

“I’m glad you could, Chloe,” Rory said, and Daria was touched by the tenderness in his voice.

Chloe looked at Rory.

“I apologize for blowing up at you the other day when you suggested Sean’s death might have something to do with your conversation with him,” she said.

“I was in a lot of pain then. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“And I shouldn’t have talked to you about it right after he died,” Rory said.

“I knew you were grieving. I just didn’t realize to what extent.”

“I want to go upstairs,” Chloe said, suddenly hugging her arms across her chest. “I just want to sleep through the rest of the storm. I want to wake up in the morning and find Shelly…” Her voice broke yet again.

“I want to find her home and safe.”

“I know,” Daria said, squeezing her shoulder.

“We’ll find her in the morning, once the storm has passed.”

Chloe got to her feet, and Daria handed her one of the flashlights.

“Take this with you,” she said.

She and Rory were quiet as Chloe climbed the stairs. It was a few minutes more before Daria found her voice.

“I’m in shock,” she said in a near whisper.

“It’s very sad,” Rory said.

They were quiet for another minute, still trying to absorb all they had heard, when a sudden loud crack of thunder made them both jump.

Daria drew her feet into the couch and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.

“God, Rory,” she said.

“Where is Shelly?”

IVain pounded against the roof and battered the plywood covering the windows. It was scary to be in a stilt house right on the bay with this storm raging outside, but Shelly was safe in Andy’s arms. He’d promised her his house could endure anything the weather threw at them, and she believed him. She always believed him.

They had made love in the pitch-black darkness, the thunder cracking through the sky outside, and now they were nestled together beneath the coverlet on Andy’s bed. They were nearly alone on the bay. Andy’s foolhardy nextdoor neighbors had refused to evacuate as well, but she guessed that these two houses were probably the only ones occupied on this stretch of water.

Andy kissed her temple.

“You know we’ll have to tell Daria soon,” he said.

Shelly stiffened against him. She had taken the pregnancy test just that morning, and the results were positive. It was no surprise to her, but now she had to face reality.

“I’m afraid to tell her,” she said.

“I know, but we have to,” Andy said.

“We really should have told her long ago.”

“She’ll try to break us up,” Shelly said.

“That’s what she’s always done before.” “Well, this time is different. First of all, she likes me and she didn’t like those other guys you were seeing. Second of all, this time there’s a baby involved.”

“She’ll probably make me have an abortion.”

“She can’t make you do anything.”

Shelly snuggled closer to Andy. It felt so good to know he would stick by her. She would not be battling Daria alone.

“Daria is the best, most wonderful sister in the world, but she’s never let me live my own life.”

“She’s never let herself live her own life, either,” Andy said.

Shelly raised her head to look at him, but it was too dark to see his face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she’s always had to look out for your welfare. She’s always put you first.”

Shelly shut her eyes and let her head fall to Andy’s shoulder again.

She knew that was the truth, but it hurt to think about it, to think about the sacrifices Daria had made for her. Even right this minute, she was causing problems for Daria. She knew that Daria had not evacuated the Outer Banks when she should have. She’d made Andy drive by the cul-de-sac to see if Daria and Chloe had left, and she was upset to learn they had not. It was because of her. They’d been all set to leave, but they’d stayed behind for her, even though she’d left that note telling them to go.

“I’m always messing up Daria’s life,” she said.

“But I just couldn’t leave.”

“I know,” Andy said. He’d been more than willing to ride out the storm with her. Andy was like that. He would do anything for her.

“Did you hear that?” Andy asked. He raised his head to listen. All Shelly could hear was the sound of the hurricane battering the house.

Then suddenly she heard someone yelling. Pounding on Andy’s back door, calling Andy’s name.

Andy got out of bed and pulled on his shorts. He ran into the kitchen as Shelly dressed. By the time she got into the kitchen, Andy was pulling open the back door, and his neighbor, Jim, nearly fell into the room.

“We need help!” Jim said. He wore a yellow slicker, and water poured from it onto Andy’s kitchen floor.

“They’re stuck! They’re trapped.”

“Slow down,” Andy said.

“What do you mean? Who’s” — “The boat turned over,” Jim said. He tried to look through Andy’s kitchen window, but plywood blocked his view.

“I’d tied it to the pier,” he said, “but when the water rose and the wind picked up, it looked like it was coming loose. So me and Julie went out there to tie it tighter, and we didn’t realize Jack was right behind us. The boat flipped onto the pier, and Jack and Julie are underneath it.”

“Oh, God.” Shelly covered her mouth with her hand, picturing Jim and Julie’s adorable five-year-old son trapped beneath the boat. She started toward the door, but Andy grabbed her arm.

“Get the slicker out of the front closet first,” he said.

“I’ll meet you out there.”

Shelly did as she was told, then ran outside to the pier, the wind nearly blowing her off her feet. The boat was barely visible, a great, beached whale on the pier, but she could hear the screams of the little boy beneath it. There was no sound, though, from Julie, at least none that could be heard above the howling of the wind.

“Help us. Shelly,” Andy said.

She could barely see the shapes of Andy and Jim standing at either end of the boat, trying to lift it off its victims. She ran to the side of the boat and tried to slip her hands beneath the rim. She could not budge it, not an inch, and her hands slipped off the wet fiberglass again and again. From beneath the boat, she heard Jack’s screams turn to whimpers, and she started to cry herself.

Andy ran toward her, grabbing her arm again.

“Go into the house and call 911,” he shouted.

“I’m going to go get Daria.”

Then Daria will know, she thought, but they had no choice. They needed help, and they needed it right away. She fought against the wind and rain into the house as Andy ran up the road toward his van, where he’d parked it away from the threat of the sound.

In the kitchen. Shelly tore the receiver from the wall phone. Her fingers shook so violently that she could barely press the numbers, and it wasn’t until she’d tried dialing them for the third time that she realized why her call wasn’t going through: the phone line was dead.

i f What’s that? ” Daria started at the thumping sound. She and Rory were still talking in the Sea Shanty living room, but the sudden pounding from the front porch had interrupted them. Standing up, she walked toward the door.

“Maybe one of the shutters came loose,” Rory suggested, following her.

Daria saw someone open the screen door and step onto the porch. She thought it might be Don Tibbie with news about Shelly, and her heart picked up its pace. Only when the man burst through the livingroom door did she realize it was Andy. He was shiftless; his long hair was loose and soaking wet, and water streamed over his face.

“Andy!” she said, alarmed by the sight of him.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you evacuate?”

“I need you and Rory.” Andy was winded, gasping for air.

“There was an accident next door to my house. My neighbor’s boat flipped over on the pier and his little boy and wife are trapped beneath it.”

Daria froze. I’m not an EMT anymore, she wanted to say, but knew there was no time for her to surrender to her fears. She ran back into the living room to get her ^j sneakers, crouching to tie them on her feet. “Did you call 9 II?” she asked.