She meets him one night at dusk. He is sitting on a swing and avoids eye contact as she passes, but he can't help sniffling. It's quiet, but she hears it.

"Hey," she says, resting her hand on the swing set. "Everything all right?"

He hesitates, takes a breath that shudders at the end. "Yeah," he answers. His voice is small, achingly vulnerable, and her heart goes out to him. She sits on the second swing and watches the clouds speed across the moon to give him time to wipe away his tears with some dignity.

"The stars are so bright here," she says. "On the mainland, all the lights just swallow them up." She chances a look at her young companion and sees him gazing up into the sky, too. "Especially somewhere like Miami. Ever been there?"

He shakes his head.

"Where are you from?"

"Nowhere, really. We moved a lot. Longest I've ever spent anywhere is here."

"Do you like it?"

Again he hesitates, throws a glance over his shoulder at one of the bungalows, and something simultaneously fearful and ominous flashes in his eyes. "Parts."

"I'm new here," she says. "Maybe you can show me around. You know, the good parts."

He looks at her directly then, and he smiles. "Sure."

A door behind them creaks open, and he jumps up as the words "Where'd that boy run off to?" slur into the night.

"I have to go." He stops in front of her and holds out his hand. "It was nice meeting you"—his eyes flick to the name stitched on her Dharma jumpsuit—"Juliet."

"Nice meeting you, too," she says, shaking his hand firmly and releasing it.

He takes a few more steps and turns around. "Oh, yeah. I'm Ben, by the way."

The darkness helps to mask the abrupt rigidity of Juliet's face.

"Well. See you later."

She nods mutely and watches as he walks quickly to where the inebriated man stands. The boy attempts to slide past him, but the man catches him by the back of the collar, jerks him inside, and slams the door behind them.

Despite always having been told that Ben lived on the island his whole life, the encounter has still taken Juliet by surprise. She sits on the swing until her fingers grow numb with cold, wondering what she had expected and what to expect now, and then makes her way to the bungalow belonging to the man called LeFleur. He answers the door at her second knock, pulling off his glasses with the same hand he's using to hold a book. She's too distracted to catch the title.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah." He stands aside as she enters, shuts the door, and leans back against it. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She laughs, higher-pitched than normal, and rubs a hand across her mouth. "Um, actually," she falters, "can I…can I stay here tonight?"

His brow furrows in concern and he puts the book and his glasses down on the table by the door. "You're shaking like a leaf," he says, putting his hands on her shoulders, and she takes a half step forward and clings to him, trembling.

It has been thirteen days since she promised James she'd stay until her next chance to go. The next day, the sub will leave without her.