DAX'S POV
Day four on the island.
He had stopped tracking time in the way he usually tracked it — the operational time, the calendar-organized time, the time that existed in relation to what came next. Island time was different. Island time was the angle of the light and whether Isolde had napped and whether the wind was doing the thing that meant the point would be good for swimming after four.
He had not checked his phone since Thursday.
This was, by the measure of his previous life, extraordinary. This was, by the measure of his current life, exactly what was supposed to happen.
He was on the beach with Isolde.
Remi was at the house behind him — he could hear her, occasionally, the sound of someone who had brought one piece of correspondence because she was constitutively incapabl
