DAX'S POV
The last night on the island.
He was awake before she was — he was always awake before she was, the runner's metabolism, the pre-dawn alertness that had been his since twenty-two and showed no signs of changing. But this morning he did not run.
He lay in Eleanor's bed and looked at the dark water through the window and thought about nothing in particular, which was something he had been learning to do on the island. The thinking-about-nothing. The being without the agenda of being.
Remi was asleep beside him.
Actually asleep. The sleep she had described to him — the kind where she wasn't half-awake in case something changed. The kind that meant safe. He had been watching it for ten days and it had not stopped being — he did not have the precise word. Important was insufficie
