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I wait a few minutes to see if her condition improves. She coughs, and her face twists into a grimace, her peaceful sleep now induced with nightmares.

I watch her for a moment, not really grasping that Naomi is here, alone and nearly dead. I have to make a hard decision, knowing London is bound back at the cabin and likely a target.

Naomi’s a twist in my plans I wasn’t expecting. If I leave her tonight, she’ll die. But I can’t bring her in this condition in the dead of night. I’ll have to wait until the morning.

I think for a moment.

When I left London, she was well-fed and healthy. She should be able to last at least one more night. Tomorrow, I will go back with Naomi, and we can figure things out from there.

My stomach clenches, and for the first time on this island, I’m second-guessing my decision. This girl is half-dead. Maybe I should let nature take its course and let her perish.

I’d be doing her a favor.

That’s now the third time today I’ve seriously considered killing someone. In fact, I’ve had murderous thoughts about everyone I’ve come into contact with since leaving London.

It’s not normal; it can’t be. However, these thoughts seem to circle back in my mind, like perhaps they have been there all along and I’ve always been this way. Like Nigel and I are more alike than I care to admit.

As if on cue, Naomi lets out a moan. I’m not sure if this is some devious plan Naomi concocted with Ezra to lure me away. I don’t hate Naomi, but I don’t fucking trust her. She’s a phenomenal actress when she needs to be. However, she isn’t faking a fever.

Her body twists and turns in her sleep. The experiences she endured leading to her current condition were undeniably real. Despite my desire to believe I’m the focal point of everyone’s existence, I’m sure she’s been through the wringer, just as we’ve all changed since being here.

“What are you up to, Naomi?” I whisper, my nerves dancing dangerously in my stomach. “Where have you been, pretty girl?”

She shivers in her sleep, teeth chattering, as I reach into my pack, grab my blanket, and crawl in beside her.

Choosing Naomi over London is a bad fucking idea. But what the fuck am I supposed to do?

This is Naomi. And I’m not actually choosing her.

I can save both of them.

I give her space and am careful not to touch her as I pull my blanket over the two of us. Even in this weather, her fever will keep her warm, but the chill in the air will only get cooler as the night goes on. Eventually, she will need my body heat.

The sips of water I gave her should help ease her pain. Even one sip of water can mean the difference between life and death, and I’ve seen enough death and destruction on this island to be able to tell Naomi is at a tipping point.

As I drift off to sleep, I keep my brain focused on London waiting for me, lying in my favorite position.

One more night, baby. I’ll come back to you.

One night… I tell myself over and over, as if it somehow makes it better or changes the fact that, no matter what I do, it won’t be the same when I get there.

Naomi’s condition worsened overnight to the point where I couldn’t get her to regain consciousness. The pulse in her neck is barely detectable under my thumb as I pick her up. She’s too incoherent to make the trek back to the cabin. After a long, rough night of taking care of her, I’m really fucking tired. It will take hours, but I hadn’t planned to stay out here even one night; I don’t have sufficient supplies. If I don’t take her now, she will die.

I pick her up, but she doesn’t wake as I walk in the direction of the morning sun. “Come on, Naomi,” I mutter. “Time to go see London.”

I carry her in my arms like a bag of bones, and she doesn’t move, keeping her head flopped down and her blonde hair falling toward the ground. I’m not upset about leaving this place behind and going home.

After an hour of meandering through the woods, she finally groans in my arms. Her eyes flutter open, and she peers up at me. “Where are you taking me?” She coughs, and her breath is labored.

“Shh. Don’t talk. You’re going to need your energy.”

Sweat pours down her face as her fever breaks, and she’s at least more alert now, even though she gazes at me inquisitively, which is annoying.

It seems like her fever has broken, at least for now. “Where is London?” I push down my annoyance; Naomi’s always more tolerable when she isn’t speaking.

“Don’t make me regret saving your life by talking, Naomi. You will not be the one asking questions.”

That shuts her up. But the corner of her mouth tilts upward as she presses herself against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my chest.