Georgia jolted awake, her skin clammy, a damp, folded shirt pressed against her burning forehead. The sharp scent of smoke drifted through the humid air, carried by the ocean breeze.
She propped herself up, heart racing, and caught sight of flickering flames dancing from a bonfire blazing near the shoreline. But Nick—he was nowhere in sight.
Panic licked at her spine.
She scrambled to her feet, too fast, and stumbled out of the liferaft. Her balance gave out. She crashed onto the sand with a thud, pain shooting up her tailbone. "Ow! My head!" she cried out, clutching her throbbing skull.
Footsteps pounded against the sand.
"Georgia!" Nick's voice cut through the dusk. He was already by her side, his brows furrowed, his breathing shallow from sprinting. "Are you okay?"
"My head feels like it's splitting in half," she muttered, squinting up at him—then noticed the soaked shirt in his hand, something bundled tightly inside.
"What's that?"
