In the spirit of giving Connor a real chance, I reached out to him for our next date. Neither one of felt like going anywhere, but his father was out of town overseeing the SAFEsite. We decided to cook dinner in his giant kitchen.

I wasn’t a great cook, and he admitted he didn’t know his way around a stove—which, for some reason he had two of? Maybe to cook different things at different temperatures? Rich people were nuts—but spaghetti and meatballs wasn’t that hard. Connor even managed to put together a nice green salad. Fresh greens were a luxury nowadays.

He kept looking at me as if wondering if I was truly okay after the aquarium, but wasn’t sure how to ask. I admit, I didn’t give him an easy conversation opener. I didn’t want to talk about it.

We sat down to eat and conversation died. So I decided to bring up the one thing that tied us together. The SAFEsite.

“Connor, who’s building the SAFEsites?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, no offense but I can’t imagine your dad, like, hammering up walls.”

He chuckled. “No, actually we have a whole army of construction workers.” His eyes took on an interested gleam as he took up the subject. “The logistics are insane. We had to fly in specialists from all over the country, and we’ve basically had to build a whole city around each SAFEsite just to support them.”

I went silent for a moment, chewing that over. How did they keep that all a secret? Then I thought of something else. “Are you paying them a lot? It seems like most of them would want to spend their last years with their families.” Maybe they were like my dad.

Connor shook his head. “Not as much as you’d think, but…well.” He looked vaguely embarrassed. “We get a lot of labor from the local correction facilities—in exchange for a reduced sentence.”

“You’re using prisoners?” I frowned.

“The non-violent ones,” he said quickly as if worried I’d be offended. To be honest, I was too surprised to know how I felt about it other than it made me uneasy. “And only for the manual labor stuff. The other trade workers have been offered their own chance to be part of a private lottery when the work is done. It’s not a guaranteed spot, but the pool is smaller than it was for the national lottery.”

That made sense. Lots of people would be putting in overtime for a second chance at the SAFEsite.

Which reminded me why I was hanging out with Connor to begin with. I wasn’t the only one looking to secure a spot for myself and my family. That made me feel both better and worse.

How many other girls would give up everything to be with him right now?

I sighed and took a bite. The meatballs were under seasoned. Connor had politely moved his own to the side of the plate.

I’d have to do better next time.

The problem was that I wasn’t in the mood for pasta. I’d rather have homemade fish stew.

Get your head in the game, Astrid.

I opened my mouth to say something—I can’t remember what, but it was probably some inane comment about the food—when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Asher.

:Come home now. Dad’s ship is missing.:

* * *

I didn’t remember the drive home. I knew Connor must have taken me there in his fancy car because my next clear memory was opening the door and bolting into my house the moment the engine stopped.

The door was unlocked. Pushing it open, I found Asher standing in the living room. One glance at his face and I knew that nothing had changed since the text message.

“What happened?” I had to hear it in person. Maybe I’d be able to see the flaw in the story somewhere. Maybe then I’d know it wasn’t true.

“He was captaining a ship off the coast. The base lost contact a few hours ago. One of the officer’s wives had an emergency phone-tree thing…that’s the only reason I knew.”

We should have been alerted in person, or from a base commander. Yet another example about how little things in the world were falling apart. That wasn’t important now.

“Has the emergency beacon gone off?” I asked. The EPIRB, or Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon, was a GPS float that automatically deployed when the ship sank. Surely, a coast guard ship would have one. Right?

Asher shook his head, and I let out a breath.

Still, they’d lost contact with Dad’s ship a few hours ago. What had I been doing at that moment? Getting ready for my date with Connor, probably. Shouldn’t I have felt something? Known that my dad was in trouble, somehow?

“Is there anything I can do?”

Connor’s voice behind me made me jump. I forgot that he was even there.

Again, Asher shook his head. Now he looked frustrated. “We’re not allowed on the base—they’ve locked it down because of security. All the families are gathering at the lighthouse to wait for news.”

“Come on,” Connor said, “I’ll drive you guys there.”

* * *

The lighthouse, with its spectacular vista of the sea, city, and bay, was usually a place for tourists. When we arrived, the other Coast Guard families were gathered in anxious clumps. Everyone shared the same pinched, worried looks on their faces. Some were praying. Most were on their phones, searching for news. A grim looking man in dress uniform stood nearby. I assumed he was a military liaison.

Connor stood next to me like a bulwark against the onrushing tide. As the afternoon faded into evening and the cold wind blew in, he draped his coat over my shoulders. It should have warmed me, but all I felt was a cold sense of numbness. I stood with Asher, silent, gazing out to sea for a hint of Dad’s ship.

I barely registered the sound of Connor’s phone ringing and him answering it. A few moments later there was a soft touch on my shoulder. I turned.

Connor looked completely wretched, holding his phone in his hand. “That was my dad. There’s been a problem with a SAFEsite—our SAFEsite, actually—and if it’s not resolved it could set us back, and…Astrid, I’m so, so sorry but I have to leave.”

“No,” I said through dry lips. “Go. I understand.”

I hated the part of me that felt a bit of relief. Without Connor there, I could focus completely on my dad.

His mouth firmed, regret in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“There’s nothing you can do here. We’re just waiting for news.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Asher asked. I didn’t realize he was listening, but he stepped up beside me, glaring at Connor. “You shouldn’t just leave her—”

I stopped him with a look.

“It’s fine,” I said. “The SAFEsite…it’s bigger than just us. Go,” I told Connor again when he hesitated.

“Okay.” He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “If you need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

“I know.”

I turned back to look again to the sea.

Give credit to Asher. He at least waited long enough for Connor to drive away before he asked, low, “Are you two okay?”

“I don’t need my future husband here hovering over me,” I snapped. “That’s not the way we work.”

He held up his hands. “Okay. It’s your weird relationship. I’m just checking.”

I felt bad for taking my frustration out on my brother in a way I hadn’t brushing by Connor off. Was that telling, or was I just a bad person?

I need to give him a chance, I reminded myself.

But I thought back to what had happened at the aquarium and how Connor had held me back instead of helping me take down the gunman. How he’d yelled at me at that moment of stress.

What if we were simply incompatible?