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herself to think of her sister, Kara, and her brother, Joey, and then of sweet, sweet, Brock and all they might have had together, and as tears slid down the corners of her eyes, she fell asleep.
     
     

Chapter Four: A Change of Heart
     
    Daphne woke up early and peered out the window. One of the girls she met at dinner was sunbathing by the pool, eyes closed. A few other people walked on the sidewalks going to and coming from the main building and the beach. Daphne was peeved that Cam hadn’t returned her call. She was anxious to see the look on his face when she told him about what had happened last night. She called him, but once again, there was no answer.
    She took her bag from the closet and started packing. When she had finished, she went to the window and scanned the pool and sidewalks. People walked past, and a few more were on loungers. A man swam laps in the pool.
    Seeing no sign of the ghost girls, Daphne put on her bathing suit to swim laps, too. Swimming had always calmed her. Plus, she wanted one more look at the underwater aquarium before demanding to be taken off the island.
    Swimming on top of all that beautiful marine life was magnificent. She felt as though she were in the ocean as she navigated over the coral and sea urchins and colorful anemone, easier to see clearly now with her goggles. As she made her turn to continue free-style to the other side, the moray eel poked out of the wall of the cave and snatched the silver flash of a fish. Other fish darted away, in the same direction as she, a whole school, and she was swimming with them, one with them, a part of the universe.
    She climbed out of the pool and slipped on her cover, a silky yellow one with buttons. A few people she recognized from dinner were walking toward the main building for breakfast. Daphne preferred to have toast or muffins in her own room (she would never enter that elevator again), but first she wanted to take another look at the beach.
    As she climbed the steps up the canyon wall, the wind knocked against her, adding to her overall feeling of rejuvenation. From the summit, the view was as spectacular as she had remembered it, with the yellow poppies dancing in the breeze to her left, and the chalky bluff, an impenetrable fortress, to her right. Circling above the bluff was a pair of bald eagles. Before she took her eyes away, they soared down toward the valley and were gone. Below her were the empty white beach and the gentle, foamy waves and a handful of gulls calling to her. She was about to turn and head back to her room when a figure on the chalky bluff caught her attention. Someone was standing there, looking out over the sea, and before she could make out whether it was a man or a woman, the figure flung itself over the edge and into the raging water below.
    Daphne drew in air and stood there at a loss. Was the person crazy? Did whoever it was want to die? She couldn’t decide whether she should run down to the beach and wait to see if the person made it to the shore or run for help. Several agonizing seconds passed before she decided to go for the beach, in spite of Arturo Gomez’s warning to avoid going places alone. On her way down the steep boardwalk, she saw the person resurface and climb back up the chalky bluff as though he or she were a starfish scaling along the side of a cave.
    When she reached the beach, the figure jumped once more. Daphne took off her flip-flops and jogged along the beach to the bottom of the bluff and waited for the person to resurface. Twenty feet away, a dark curly head emerged.
    “Stan!”
    He turned in mid-climb, grasping the base of the bluff.  He waved, lowered himself back into the water, and swam up until he hit the shallow sand bed, where he climbed to his feet. She waded out and met him.
    “What are you doing? You could hit your head on a rock and die out here. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
    “As it turns out, I’m not. You’re here.”
    “You’re