The Different Girl

time.”
    We were very disappointed. Robbert called from the yard. “I’m going ahead!”
    “Be right there!” Irene called back. Robbert’s footfalls went thudding off. Irene knelt next to Isobel.
    “We could help,” Isobel said.
    “I know you could,” said Irene. “That isn’t why you have to stay.”
    “Why, then?” asked Eleanor.
    “Sleep tight, Isobel.” Irene touched the spot behind Isobel’s ear and shifted to Eleanor. “It’s because we don’t know everything that’s happened. Next time, if things are fine, I promise you’ll see more.”
    “Everything that’s happened where?” asked Eleanor. “Do you mean with May?”
    “Sleep tight, Eleanor.” Eleanor fell asleep, and Irene swiveled to Caroline. Caroline turned from Irene’s hand.
    “Don’t.”
    “Don’t what?” asked Irene.
    “Don’t go,” said Caroline.
    “Why not?” Irene’s hand curved gently around Caroline’s neck. “What’s wrong?”
    “I don’t know. I’m trying to know, but I can’t.”
    Irene frowned. “What makes you say that? Was it a dream?”
    Caroline nodded. Irene glanced at the door, then back to Caroline. “Is it the boat?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Is it the men?”
    “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s not your fault, Caroline. You’re doing very well. We’ll talk it through when I get back.” Irene’s finger found her spot.
    “Don’t,” whispered Caroline.
    “We’ll talk later, I promise.”
    Irene pressed the button and Caroline settled, fluttering eyes gone still. Irene reached for me.
    “What did she know?” I asked.
    “It was just a dream, Veronika.”
    “Sometimes her dreams come true.”
    Irene looked at me. “Why do you say that?”
    “Caroline had a dream about hiding.”
    Irene sighed and shook her head, as if she’d been thinking I’d say something else. “I know she did. But no one has to hide.”
    “May is hiding.”
    “But she doesn’t have to. That’s different—and it’s not what Caroline dreamed. Sleep tight. I’ll be back before you know it.”
    I felt her hand behind my ear.
    “I love you, Irene.”
    Her finger found the spot but didn’t press. Irene bit her lip.
    “Why did you say that?”
    “Because I do.”
    “But why? What does that mean? Veronika—why do you say love ?
    “Because.” I felt like I was on the dock, so alone. I felt like I was on my face in the sand, struggling. “Isn’t that the right word?”
    “Word for what, honey? Why do you say it now?”
    I shook my head. I didn’t know. Irene smiled and sighed at the same time.
    “I love you, too, Veronika. Don’t you forget it.”
    I felt her lips on my forehead, soft and warm, and then the click.
    • • •
    There are different ways to understand time, different units to count. We knew minutes and hours and seconds without even thinking—as just part of waking up—but as we learned more about the world, our vocabulary for time expanded, too. It could be small things like meals—how long one took to make or eat—or how often the water filter had to be refilled, or how often Irene or Robbert went to the chemical toilet. It could be larger forces that touched the entire island, like tides or moons or seasons or birds laying eggs or grass flowering. We named these as increments, regular and repeated, each one a new-sized gear whose interlocking teeth made up the schedule of our world.
    More complicated were the increments that floated alone: flights of birds, or the time it took us to reach the beach compared to Robbert, or to Irene, or how many whacks with the machete it took to open a coconut, depending on the person and also the coconut. As we grew capable of noticing all these measurements we couldn’t not notice them, and so every different increment joined with hundreds, and then thousands, of others. And because we didn’t forget things, our understanding kept everything ready to connect.
    May, of course, presented entirely new measurements, and while we had figured out some of them—how wide she stepped, how long she took to eat—a lot still remained uncertain because of how sick she’d been when she arrived. We knew May was faster than us, but not how much, mainly because her feet had been hurt. Was she faster than Robbert or Irene? We didn’t know, but we were watching.
    So when I woke to find May kneeling next to me, out of breath, her body moist with sweat, I didn’t know how long it had taken her to reach the kitchen from her hiding place