TWENTY
To Xan's surprise, Jay was true to his word. She didn't see or hear him for three days. No, not even his usual morning swim: the wet season had well and truly set in, with the first cyclone of the season forming off the coast. The cyclone was to blame for the week-long storm, someone had said on last night's news report. It sat off the coast, brooding, like it was choosing its target carefully as it built up its strength. Last report she heard, it was a Category Three, but they'd predicted it would intensify to a Category Four if it stayed out at sea much longer. The resort had been on blue alert – the lowest level of cyclone watch – for almost a week now, but that didn't mean anything unless the cyclone moved. At Divers Tavern in town, the regulars would be placing bets as to whet
