"I don't know if 'just some clothes' is something I'd ever say," Effy admitted, careful to try and match her pulls of the oar to Kate's, which were slightly uneven whenever the girl grew excited about the topic of conversation. She wondered, though, how much she'd be allowed to tamper with whatever they found. Clothes were never just clothes, in her mind. They'd belonged to someone. They smelled of someone. They were worn as part of that person's identity, and even on the island, it was one of the best ways to identify people, even just dividing them out to how long they typically spent by the side of the clothes box. Those who were there longer cared about the surface-level appearance.

"I used to have a shirt of Tone's that I'd wear after he went to university," Effy mused. "Meant nothing to him, but."

But it made her feel like he was closer, she thought, the words going unsaid.