Ever. She was hypothermia cold, her wet clothes lay in a pile down in the cabin and she was dressed in the most ridiculous combination of towels, some of her mother’s things and a pair of old oilskins that reeked unpleasantly of sea life. None of the items warmed her in any way. She was also nauseous. The roll and pitch of the boat was relentless and although she hadn’t actually vomited yet, she knew it was coming. To top it off, worry was gnawing away at her insides: there was no sign of Fraser Dunbar. At first she had been convinced he was saved, but she hadn’t actually seen him reach the shore. Her mom was crying and Ben had a drained, sickly look to him. They thought Fraser had drowned. Dunny stood still and quiet, with an untroubled face, as if he knew everything was fine. She had said nothing to her mom or Ben about Jonah. Ben had called the coastguard while they sailed in endless circles. It seemed pointless; they couldn’t see anything in the dark and the storm but Ben had said their boat was acting as a marker.
