He watched something white fall from her hand to the water below. He joined her at the rail, sea spray catching on his arm hair.
The packet of notes was folded into a tight square. She had written on both sides of the paper and the running ink was quickly turning the parchment sky blue. The waves tossed the bundle back and forth in a game of keep-away.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She smiled. He’d seen that smile last night when he said that she was the best friend he’d had in a long time.
And he knew too late. This invitation to sail with her had not been extended in friendship.
He wondered how long it would be until a gull swooped down to steal her writings from the sea.