Page 21 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

“I want to see it,” said Brad. “And that other stuff too. I want to know all the places the tourists don’t know.”

I took him up to the bell first, as it was closest. It was like I’d told him, just this weird bell. It stood on the bluff at the head of a deer trail, a bell on a post overlooking the water. Brad went up and examined it, but he didn’t ring it.

“Why is it the wishing bell?”

I shrugged. “If you ring it at midnight, it’s supposed to grant wishes.”

Brad reached up and touched the bell. “Have you ever tried?”

“It’s dark here at midnight. But—” I bit my tongue. I’d been about to say Mom had tried once. She’d told me about it, how she’d wished for me. And just six weeks later, she’d found out she was pregnant. “But you never know,” I finished, instead.

Brad checked his watch. “It’s midnight somewhere. In… Singapore.” He grabbed the bell pull and gave it a shake. The bell clanged and bonged, an old, brittle sound.

“What did you wish for?”

He winked. “Can’t tell you. If I do, it won’t come true.”

“That’s birthday rules, not bell rules.”

“It’s wish rules.” He grinned, then he turned his gaze to the ocean. “The view here is stunning, bell or no bell.”

“The lighthouse is near here, up at the point. You’ll see it as soon as we’re out past those trees.” I led the way down the trail, out to the beach. Brad got sand in his shoes and stopped to remove them. He wiggled his toes around.

“I love the feel of warm sand.”

I took my shoes off too for the walk to the lighthouse, and we kicked through the shallows, dodging the waves. We put our shoes back on when we got to the pier, and trekked out to the lighthouse perched at its end. Brad squinted up at it.

“Does somebody live there?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore, but they used to. You can still go inside, in June when the tours start. See how the keeper lived.” I’d done the tour on a school trip, Mom at my side. She’d held my hand when things got spooky. The lighthouse was haunted, the guide had said, by the ghost of a drowned man and his little drowned dog. You could see them sometimes in the light from the beacon, swimming and swimming, but they never hit land.

“The beacon was out that night,” the guide had said. “So they swam in circles, lost in the dark. And they’re still out there swimming, and?—”

“That’s not how I heard it.” Mom had squeezed my hand tighter. “What I heard was, those ghosts loved to swim. So they sneak out sometimes when they get bored of heaven, and they come back down here for some fun at the beach.”

A cold feeling swept through me, deep loneliness. For a moment, lost in memory, I’d felt Mom’s hand in mine. Now it was gone again, and the breeze had gone chilly. I shivered and Brad frowned.

“It’s windy out here.” He shrugged off his jacket. “Here, to keep warm.”

I pulled on his jacket, still warm from his body. It smelled of him too, of his aftershave. I closed my eyes, and for a moment, it felt like a hug. Like I’d imagined, Brad holding me close. I blinked the thought away, but too late. I was blushing.

“You’re all red from the wind,” said Brad.

“Next stop, Hidden Beach!” I struck out ahead of him half at a jog. Brad kept up without effort, lengthening his stride.

“Why is it hidden?”

“Huh?”

“Hidden Beach.”

“Oh.” I laughed. “Now you mention it, it isn’t. We just call it that because the tourists don’t come there. Mom used to bring me, uh…” I felt my face fall. This whole place, this whole island, my entire home — it was all tied up with her in my memories. I couldn’t look anywhere without seeing her ghost, without remembering the two of us, some outing we’d shared. The tour at the lighthouse. The wishing bell. Picnics on Hidden Beach. She’d taught me to swim there.

Brad touched my arm. “Hey. You okay?”

I jerked back. His eyes went wide.

“Sorry. I scared you.”

---