Page 70 of The Words We Lost

“Good thing,” Joel said, failing to keep the smile from his face as hetook it from her. “Because Merrick wouldn’t be half the hero he is without my guidance.”

Cece rolled her eyes. “I definitely wouldn’t gothatfar.”

A nervous kind of elation fluttered through her as she watched the people she loved most slip their respective copies ofThe Pulse of Goldout of their bags. Joel stared down at the ream of copy paper in his hands while Ingrid giddily hugged all four hundred and sixty-three pages to her chest.

“This has to be the best ending to a treasure hunt ever. I would have read a hundred more clues if I knew this was the ending. I’ll start it bright and early on the ferry tomorrow.” She clung to the manuscript as if it was actual gold. “We might be your first readers, but we won’t be your last. The world needs your stories, Cece. I can hardly wait for you to finish up with book two so I can read all your revisions in order.”

Cece was just about to tell her that she was only a couple of chapters away from starting her first major edit on her second book when Joel seized her in a hug that left her feet dangling off the ground.

“I’m proud of you, cuz.”

Cece’s eyes burned at Joel’s spontaneous burst of affection, especially considering that the two of them had gone round and round over her choice to skip college in exchange for more writing time. Joel had always been degree-minded, setting his sights on an online MBA program before they’d even finished middle school. But for Cece, the idea of signing up for another four years of schooling, of her time being dictated by subjects and homework and tests she didn’t care about, made her physically ill. She’d watched her mother’s love of art take a back seat throughout the majority of her childhood, life’s mounting pressures and responsibilities always taking first priority. It was partly due to her mother’s journey, and hugely due to her mother’s encouragement, that she’d decided to use her would-be college years to maximize her passion for words. It would mean living at home a little longer than her peers and continuing to collect her paychecks from the same uncle and aunt who’d employed her at sixteen, but she often prayed it would all be worth it someday.

Really, she and Joel weren’t so different from one another. Both of them knew exactly who they were meant to become. But while he was set toget his degree in business this coming summer, there was no such date of achievement in sight for her. Which is why his generous words to her just now had felt like an achievement all on their own.

“Thank you” was all she could say as he placed her back on solid ground and squeezed her shoulder.

The three of them lapsed into a sort of reverent silence Cece could only stand for so long. Their night was far from over. “Are either of you going to ask about the final clue?” Cece lifted her gaze to the sign above their heads. “I mean, if tonight was just about getting these first drafts to you then I would have done it over a basket of fish and chips down on the pier.”

Ingrid pulled a face. “But we found the last clue. We found you.”

“There’s always afinalclue.” Cece’s smug face revealed nothing.

With narrowed eyes, Joel circled the area outside the parlor doors and then reached for the discarded gift bag, peeling off Cece’s red X to reveal a three-by-five card he read out loud. “‘You can find it with a compass, inked deep inside your chest. This place your friends call home, should be carved into your flesh.’”

Cece turned and swept the curls off the back of her neck, lowering her shirt to expose the detailed compass inked on her skin. Break waves smudged the borderlines of the nautical compass and highlighted the raised quarterdeck of a glorious pirate ship sailing toward the horizon. It was the very ship she’d been dreaming about for years now. All four masts pointed toward the heaven, sails raised high, while a single anchor trailed behind it from the stern. Etched on its arms was 48.1170° N, 122.7604° W.

The coordinates of Port Townsend.

Home.

If there was anything good that came from her childhood worship of Captain Hal—this was it. The inspiration she needed to create her own tattoo.

“Cece.” She heard Ingrid gasp. “Oh my... it’s, it’s—”

A finger swiped across her skin. “It’s not real.”

Naturally, Joel would have to check for himself.

“Thank you, Captain Killjoy.” She spun back around. “Of course it’s not real. Not yet, anyway. But it will be soon. And I’m hoping you two will join me. Rupert said he has time for all three of us if we go in now.”

“You’re actually serious?” Ingrid all but squeaked.

“As serious as a pirate with a map.”

Joel tugged at the back of his neck. “Cece,” he began, glancing at the parlor windows. “I know we talked about doing this together a couple years ago, but I’m not sure this is the right time. Seems ... a bit quick.”

“And I think the timing couldn’t be anymoreright. Think about it. Things are changing for all of us. Ingrid is off at school, getting leads on teaching jobs left and right, while your responsibilities at the hotel are multiplying every day.” She didn’t have much of a case to make for the changes in her own schedule, which still looked exactly like it had two years ago. Even still, she knew she wasn’t wrong. “I just don’t want us to forget.”

“Forget what?” Joel asked in the emotionally clueless way of males everywhere.

“This!Us!” She gestured to the three of them, her pent-up fears starting to expose themselves. “Who we are to each other and where it all began.”

“We don’t need a tattoo for that,” he said dismissively. “None of us are going to forget anything.”

But while her cousin tried to rally support from his girlfriend, Ingrid’s gaze remained locked on Cece, as if she were reading between the lines of her unspoken words. Words Cece wasn’t ready to reveal. Not even to her best friend.

“Listen,” she tried again. “I checked this place out—their reviews are solid and their portfolios are incredible. And Rupert in there, well, he recently won Tattoo Artist of the Year for the entire Pacific Northwest. Who knew we had a celebrity right here in our own little town?”

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