Night had swallowed the island whole by the time Nick and Georgia's liferaft scraped against the shoreline. They were soaked, aching, and utterly exhausted.
"Did you pack anything that could start a fire?" Nick asked between breaths, yanking the liferaft further up the beach.
Georgia panted, struggling with her end of the raft. "Nope. I searched everywhere, but couldn't find a single lighter or match in the supply room. Gosh, this is heavy!"
Nick scoffed. "Of course not. Lighters are not allowed on the ship. But there are safety matches. Evelyn probably hid them like gold bars." He eyed her arms. "And seriously? This thing's not even that heavy—you're just... skin and bones."
Georgia paused mid-pull and shot him a look that could melt steel. "Excuse me?! I am not that thin. I'm just delicate."
Nick smirked. "Delicately weak."
Before she could kick sand in his face, Georgia proudly pulled out a small flashlight and flicked it on, casting a faint beam through the dark.
