Zaharah didn't know how long she stayed out there in the garden, in the ocean, adrift in her own turmoil. The boat had long capsized, and she'd fallen into the atlantic's black waters. And she was drowning. People came, people went, but no one threw her a lifeline. Her lungs burned, her eyes stung.

She couldn't breathe.

Get it together.

"Zaharah?"

She almost jumped out of her skin. The water receded from the trees and benches, and she sucked in a wheezing breath. The salty funk of the Atlantic still filled her nose, but at least her feet were on land again.

A hot wave of shame fell over her. She hadn't had an episode like this in over a year, and even then, she'd been able to pull herself out of deep end with no help.

"Are you all right?" Elliot stood over her, but she had no idea when he got there. The wave of shame turned into a typhoon that sadly didn't sweep her away.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" She squared her shoulders and held her body rigid in a mockery of what a sane person should look like.

"Well you've been gone for almost an hour." He stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his head at her. "Markus and Jade tried to reach you, but you weren't picking up."

Zaharah checked phone – three calls and ten text messages. The clock read 20:14. "Time got away from me, that's all."

"Uh-huh..." He quirked a brow at her. "Is that also why your heart rate and blood pressure are elevated?" She didn't answer. "I get it. None of my business. Director Sanders told me..." He paused as if trying to find the right words. "...people here don't express their emotions well. Even positive ones. Is that true?"

She shrugged. "Somewhat. I mean, some people are good about. The rule of thumb is not to talk about it unless the other person brings it up first."

"Then I apologise. I'm still learning."

"It's fine." She stood and smoothed her clothes. "Let's head back."

Goat skin drums boomed from within the complex as the parade continued. She and Elliot made the trip back to the skybox in silence, but she caught him staring at her more than once. The kind of steady, attentive look one gave when they had something to say. Thank goodness he saved it. Any words from him would've been the pin to her balloon, and she'd explode.

As they exited the stairwell, her phone buzzed, and she whipped it out expecting another message from Jade or Markus, but found an unknown number displayed on her dash.

Zaharah? It's Cammi, the message read.

Numbness settled in her fingertips like a biting cold. It climbed up her arms and skittered down her back, all the way to her toes, rooting her to the ground. If she had a shred of common sense left, she'd delete the message, block the number and go back to watching Junkanoo. But another part of her wanted to scream at Cammi for stealing her information, for disrupting her life, for dredging up old memories.

"Something the matter?" Elliot asked.

"Tell Markus and Jade I went to the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute." She didn't wait for an answer before she disappeared through the door of the unisex bathroom. Rows of stalls and urinals stretched the length of the one side, opposite the sinks and mirrors.

Zaharah hit the panel on the wall to lock the door and slid down to the cream-coloured tiles. More texts flashed across the dash of her phone.

Please respond.

I know you're reading these messages.

Zaharah opened the messenger and inhaled a shaky breath laced with pine-scented cleaner. Her heart blared in her head, harsher than the drums filtering through the door. And she'd thought sending an email was a risk.

There you are. How are you Zaharah? How's Jade?

She almost laughed. She'd just recovered from one of the worst episodes of her life, and this motherfucker had the nerve to talk to her as though they were old friends playing catch up.

I'm guessing Dwight and his team finally found my tracks. I wasn't able to respond to your email. He didn't offer up the rest of the video, did he? Perhaps he's more involved than I thought.

Her grip on her phone tightened, and she pressed the back of her head against the cool metal door. She wasn't going to bad mouth Dwight to this troll. What the fuck do you want? She hit send and though her message would throat-punch Cammi through the phone.

Those three dots danced at the bottom of the screen again, the small message that followed a mockery to their prolonged performance. You seem upset, which is understandable I guess.

Zaharah laughed, the hollow sound echoing through the bathroom.

I want to help you. I only went through your stuff to make sure I had the right person. Now I'm wondering if I do... Perhaps I can send you a questionnaire to fill out, just to be sure.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard. Or you could send your location instead of hiding behind a screen you coward.

What followed was several crying-laughing emojis. Just ask Dwight. He knows who I am and where I am. The only person who doesn't seem to remember me is you. But since you asked so nicely. 1723 Amaryllis Road. Pinegrove, New Andros.

Zaharah frowned at the screen. Dwight said he hadn't figured out where the hack or the email came from. Unless he... She shook the thought from her head. He wouldn't do that to her. If anything, Cammi was the liar, the one trying to get under her skin and in her head.

So, you don't remember what happened in the video, and you don't remember me. Do you even remember yourself?

She held her finger over the block button in the corner of the screen.

Perhaps I can jog your memory. You're in the skybox bathroom, yes?

The phone slipped from her grasp and clamoured on the tiles. Zaharah whipped her head this way and that, but didn't see any cameras in the ceiling or floor, nor anyone else in the room with her. Then how...? Unless Cammi hacked her phone, but even then it would show her exact location within the complex. Her gaze drifted around the room once more before settling on the phone and Cammi's last message.

There's a dispenser at the back of the room. Open the service panel at the top, you'll find something... intriguing. Also... The next message was an audio file. Have a listen. I'll be in touch.

Zaharah pushed the centre button on the console as though she was smashing a bug. The screen disappeared into the console, but Cammi's words still hovered in front of her eyes. Something intriguing. She could – and should – walk out of the bathroom, leave whatever secrets Cammi had hidden behind.

Or throw caution to the wind again. She tucked her phone away and pushed to her feet; her legs wobbly, unsure. She didn't walk, but drifted like a ghost across the room, through the haze of pine-scented cleaner, under the judging gaze of the ceiling lights. They screamed at her to turn around, go back to the skybox, watch Junkanoo.

But she kept going, spurred on by whatever reckless demon had possessed her. The dispenser sat on the wall by the last sink, a small box filled with pods of soap and sanitiser. And something intriguing.

It could be a trick. The intriguing thing waiting for her could be a bomb, or something just as harmful. She stood on her tiptoes to get a closer look at the panel. The metal around its latch was pocked and scratched, like someone had taken an ice pick to it. A tiny bomb could fit inside, one big enough to blow her hand off.

So she'd use her replaceable one. She stood within arm's length of the dispenser, caught the corner of the panel with her smallest finger and eased it open. Under the lights a gold pin gleamed, fashioned in the shaped of a wing. Just a pin. Not a bomb with three seconds left on the timer and a complicated set of wires.

Zaharah picked it up, the metal cool and weighty in her palm. Not a wing like she'd initially thought, but a bunch of feathers clumped together. An Icarus wing. It didn't jog her memory like Cammi said, only reminded her of all the pre-Denden things she wanted to forget. It took everything within her not to toss it in a toilet and flush it.

Instead, she flipped it over. A logo was embossed in the catch, two C's, one inside the other. She'd seen it before, perhaps in passing. The Icarus wing, she knew well. She'd had a backpack, and a hoodie emblazoned with it. Jade still had a shirt she slept in.

But this pin was new to her. How it got in here was just as much a mystery as how Cami knew where she was. Unless Cammi wasn't on the mainland like Dwight thought. They were in here. In Denden.