The World Forgot Read Free

very first time.
    Those were very different butterflies.
    â€œI think we should break up,” I say softly. The words hover in the air between us like they’re in a cartoon speech bubble. Cole barely reacts at all, but I notice the corner of his mouth twitch. For several seconds the only sound is the crashing of the waves against the hull of the ship. I wait, as patiently as I can, for the explosion of feelings that’s probably welling up inside him right now.
    â€œWhatever,” Cole says finally.
    Not exactly what I was expecting.
    â€œWhatever?” I snap back.
    â€œWhat do you want me to say, Elvs?”
    â€œSomething more than ‘whatever.’ We have a child together, for Christ’s sake.”
    â€œ You’re the one who just said you want to break up!”
    I’m at a loss. I want so badly for Cole to understand. I want to tell him that he’ll always be my first true love, that he’ll always be the father of my child, and that there will always be a special place in my heart just for him. That I’ll always want him in my life, but that I’m growing into a different person from who I was when we met, and that I need to figure out who this new person is going to be. I want to tell him I’m sorry.
    â€œFine. Whatever, then,” I shoot back at him.
    My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing on cotton balls. I crack open the silver can and take a huge sip, only to immediately spit it back out in a glorious spray over the bow of the ship.
    â€œJesus, Cole! What in the hell is this?” I run my finger along the lip of the can, picking up the thick white liquid. “Have you been drinking condensed milk ?”
    â€œIt was all they had in the galley!” he shouts. “And, hey, I don’t have to explain myself to you, because we just broke up !”
    With that, he storms away, brushing past Captain Oates, who is walking toward us. Cole doesn’t break his stride and starts running as he gets farther away from me. Oates looks back at him before turning to me with a concerned look on his face.
    â€œMiss Elvie?” he asks. “You’re crying.”
    â€œIt’s nothing,” I say, holding up the can of syrupy milk. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”
    â€œAh.” Oates settles in right beside me and looks out at the water. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he’s way too British to let on. “It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?”
    â€œYeah,” I say, sniffing.
    â€œIt’s been too long since I’ve been on the water. I hadn’t realized how much I truly missed it.”
    â€œWell, seems like you could have called your buddies here to escape from prison anytime you wanted to.”
    â€œI broke the law of my people, even if I felt that law to be unjust. If I wanted my actions to mean something, I could not run away from their consequences.”
    â€œI didn’t realize extra hanky-panky was such a weighty subject for you,” I say. Seriously, I’ve always thought the Almiri “code” was a bit bogus—deciding who a dude gets to sleep with, and then locking him up indefinitely if said dude can’t keep it in his pants—but my buddy Oates has taken things to a new level of bogusitude.
    Oates looks me dead in the eye. Now I’ve done it. I should just keep my mouth shut for the rest of the trip so that I don’t piss anyone else off.
    â€œThese sailors who aid us in our journey home . . . ,” Oates begins.
    â€œThe smugglers? What about them?”
    â€œThey are not smugglers. Well, they are, but not in the manner that you suppose. They are freedom runners. They transport the, shall we say, recently liberated, to safer harbor.”
    â€œYou mean like escaped convicts?” I ask.
    Oates shrugs. “Perhaps, sometimes. But not always. They have been making their covert runs for centuries now.”
    â€œThey’re