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There was a map in Verity’s studio.

A map made of sketches upon post-it notes, depicting an island that did not exist on this planet. Some notes were stained by water, others by dirt. Some were torn as if pressed against a rough surface, others were marked by uncertain charcoal. It was a pastiche of a map, one draw with only an approximation of an appreciation for the art of cartography.

But there was a sense of obsession there. An obsession tightened by the bareness of the studio, how nothing was present in the room of this teenage girl except for equipment and gear, textbooks on all sorts of DIY crafts.

A sense of obsession.

A sense of [i]adventure[/i].

...

[b]"Lookin' fer Verity, officer? Yah, she frequents this place plenty. Real pleasant, pays well, though obviously not with her [i]own[/i] money. Don't see those types too often round here, ya know? The type who like to get out there."[/b]

[b]"Hmm, yes, I do recall seeing her. She picked up a fairly big package off from Amazon over at our postal office. Well, I say fairly big, but it was relatively small, just quite heavy. Couldn't tell you where she is right now, but she does have a habit of appearing out of nowhere."[/b]

[b]"That little girl? Ah, no, she definitely comes here plenty. Big interest in the old maps in our archives and all; couldn't tell you why though. Don't think the HAGAY teachers ever did any [i]real[/i] history. Just classical BC stuff. So I suppose it was mostly self-interest on her part. Weird though. Nothing but old and forgotten places here."[/b]

...

The sun was setting upon the dockhouse where Sofia had set up a meeting, less than a week before. It was, as well, the last time anyone saw her. The clouds burned red, the waters turned gold, and the detectives muttered to themselves about how only trust fund babies could afford to be a truant in a school as prestigious and expensive as HAGAY. Diego was wiping his brow with a handkerchief, a day of legwork giving him only inconclusive information on how every school had a teenage weirdo. Nathan, zealous, was poring over every crack on the boardwalk, trying to discover any sign of foul play that may indicate that Sofia was murdered by the group that she had summoned.

Neither of them looked up. Not until Verity spoke out.

[b]"Yo."[/b] A crunch of potato chips, flavored dust blown by a soft breeze onto Nathan's head. [b]"Looking for Sofia?"[/b]

The responses were guarded, the questions were pointed, their combined experience made for years that were double Verity's age, and yet, the brunette still sat atop the roof of the dockhouse, looking down at them. Listened to what they had to say, but answered nothing.

Then, broke the silence once more.

[b]"One of you should go to the second floor of HAGAY. The main building."[/b] She smiled. The bag was empty now, and it crinkled as she crushed it into a ball and sealed it in her bag. A drybag. Limegreen. Brand? Sealine. [b]"Call the other once you're there."[/b]

They humored her. Better to form rapport, if you couldn't intimidate with authority alone. It was hard, after all, for two detectives to have more power than the heirs to great fortune and fame that often made up the student population here. All of a half hour passed before Diego's phone rang.

And, as if that was the signal she was waiting for, Verity took three steps, leapt off the roof, and crashed into the waters below, all before the man could let out a warning or a shout.

One second.

Ten seconds.

Thirty seconds.

One minute.

Three minutes.

Five minutes.

She did not surface. She was not there.

...

[i]On an island that was not on a map, there were coconuts, the traces of a great monster, and now?

The framework of a boat, alongside a litany of tools and comforts.[/i]

...

Second floor. Main building. Her shoes, touching familiar tiling. Her bag, delightfully empty expect for the ball of plastic that bounced inside it. She met Nathan outside the boy's washroom, patted him on the shoulder.

[b]"Figure out how I got from dockhouse to here, without passing you."[/b]

There was too much she didn't know yet, about that Sea, about Sofia's sinking.

[b]"It'll help with finding Sofia."[/b]

...

[b]"What the fuck?! That girl's a fucking nutjob, Big D!"[/b]

[b]"Jesus, kid, don't ever call me Big D again. And I'm going to reserve judgment for now. She might just be a bit kooky...fancy a dive though, Inspector Nathan?"[/b]