Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 902 - 904

They shook their heads. Except for Serena.

"I don’t know if it’s a memory or a feeling," she said. "But... sometimes I feel like I was watching myself. Like my body was moving and I couldn’t stop it. Like I was just... watching."

A chill passed through Jude. "That’s not just being tired."

"No," Stella whispered. "It’s not."

He didn’t mention the blue smoke. Not yet. He’d only seen it once, just a shimmer at the edge of his vision, curling like mist near Emma’s mouth before she’d changed. He hadn’t known what it was at the time, thought maybe it was sunlight refracting off the waves. But now, in the silence of the firelight, that moment returned with piercing clarity. The smoke had moved like it was alive.

"Do you think it’s the island?" Grace asked, barely audible.

Jude looked around. The trees were still. The wind was calm. But it didn’t feel like they were alone.

"I don’t know," he said honestly. "But something is happening. To all of us."

"What should we do?" Zoey asked.

He had no answer.

They sat in silence again, until the fire crackled and someone threw on more wood. Jude felt the night press closer around them. He met each of their eyes in turn, some scared, some confused, all of them trusting him. Depending on him. And inside, he felt the terrible weight of his hidden truth. That he was not who he said he was. That he’d built this island life on a lie so ancient it no longer felt like a lie. A curse, maybe. Or a plan far bigger than even he could remember.

He stood slowly. "Let’s just sleep," he said. "We’ll talk more in the morning."

But no one moved. They just sat there, quiet, eyes watching the fire, each flicker of flame reflected in their wide, sleepless gazes.

Far above them, on the highest branch of an ancient tree, something watched with eyes like carved amber. It blinked once, slowly, deliberately, and then melted back into the shadows.

The morning light crept through the forest canopy in lazy golden ribbons, brushing over the treehouse roofs and dappling the ground below with shifting mosaics. Birds stirred in the higher branches, their chirps fragmented by distance and wind. Jude sat on the edge of the wooden balcony, elbows resting on his knees, watching the slow rise of the sun through the leaves. He hadn’t slept. Not really. Every time he closed his eyes, fragments of their campfire conversation returned to him, each wife’s frightened expression, each whispered admission of lost time.

The soft creak of wooden floorboards behind him broke his thoughts. He turned slightly as Sophie stepped out, her hair braided back but messy, clearly done in a half-asleep state. She moved beside him without a word and sat down cross-legged, their shoulders brushing.

"You didn’t sleep either?" she asked after a long silence.

"Not a wink."

"I dreamed of a hallway. Endless doors. They kept opening, but no one came out." Her voice was calm but held an undertone of unease.

Jude turned his eyes back to the horizon. "I dreamed I was standing in front of myself. Watching me do things I don’t remember doing."

Sophie didn’t respond, only leaned into him a little more, drawing comfort from his warmth.

Below them, in the central clearing where they had cleared trees for their small communal kitchen, Zoey and Lucy were already moving about, gathering firewood, setting stones for boiling water. Their movements were sluggish, distracted. Jude could see it. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was the same heavy confusion he’d seen in their faces the night before, now lingering in the shape of their shoulders, the way they glanced over their own arms as though not recognizing them.

He made his way down the rope ladder slowly, testing each rung before placing his weight. Sophie stayed above, watching silently. As he reached the bottom, Lucy looked up.

"Morning," she said, but it was automatic. Her eyes didn’t match her voice.

"Morning," Jude replied, and then glanced toward Zoey. "Did either of you sleep okay?"

Lucy hesitated. Zoey’s hand froze mid-reach toward a basket of roots.

"I... think so," Lucy said after a beat. "But I don’t remember my dreams. I never forget my dreams."

Zoey gave a small, nervous laugh. "I woke up facing the wrong way on my bed. Head near my feet. I don’t remember turning around."

Jude nodded slowly, absorbing it. "I think we should all stay together today. Work in pairs or threes. Keep an eye on each other."

Lucy gave him a sharp look. "You think something’s watching us?"

"I think something’s affecting us. Whether it’s the island, the plants, or something else. But until we know what it is, we should play it safe."

Zoey bit her lip and nodded. "Okay. Who do I stick with?"

"Go with Stella and Susan," Jude said. "They were going to pick bananas and try to find some wild ginger near the northeast ridge. It’s shaded there, good place to talk, too."

"What about you?"

"I’ll take Grace and Natalie. We’ll check the fish traps and maybe head toward the southern river. It’s been drying up, but sometimes we find small animals drinking there."

Lucy and Zoey nodded and went back to their tasks, more focused now. Jude stepped back toward the ladder and climbed halfway up, calling softly for Grace. Within minutes, she came down, hair tied tight and bow in hand, Natalie right behind her with a waterskin and a coiled net.

The three of them moved through the woods with the practiced silence of people who had survived here for years. Jude led the way, sweeping branches aside with a carved walking stick while the women followed close behind. The forest seemed normal. The bird calls. The buzz of insects. The rustle of something small scuttling through undergrowth. But the normality felt artificial, like a painted backdrop slowly peeling.