Page 167 of The Otherworld

Adam nods slowly, kissing my forehead. “All right. I’ll come back in a few days.”

In truth, I never want him to leave my side. But go he must—for however short a time. We both have conflicts to resolve and bonds to rebuild.

I capture Adam’s lips in one last kiss, savoring our final moment together. Then I pull myself away. My heart wrenches as I climb down the ladder and step out onto the plane’s starboard float, splashing through knee-deep seawater and coming to a stop on the hard gray sand.

Papa is waiting at the top of the grassy knoll, shielding his eyes from the rising sun as he squints at me, as if he can’t quite believe I am real.

Oh, Papa.

I race across the beach toward the lighthouse, dodging knotted branches of driftwood as the ground rushes under my feet. When I reach the top of the hill, Papa’s arms are open for me. I crash into him and hold him tight, my voice breaking through sobs to beg his forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, Papa… please forgive me… please…”

He embraces me with a fiercer love than I have ever felt before. And I don’t need to hear what he says in reply to my desperate apologies. There is forgiveness in his arms—a fountain of it, pouring from his heart and into mine. He kisses the top of my head as I bury my face in his chest and cry.

* * *

I can’t decide who is happier to have me back: Papa or Lucius. From the moment I walk through the front door, the sandy mongrel is slathering me in affection, yipping ecstatically—as though he wasn’t sure he’d ever see me again. I collapse to my knees and throw my arms around his neck.

Poor, sweet Lucius. He had no way of knowing that I had always intended to come back.

It feels surreal to be home—almost as though the Otherworld was just a startlingly colorful dream that I’ve awoken from. Nothing has changed in my absence. Papa has kept the house neat and tidy, but there is a lingering sense of loneliness in the crackling fire and the empty rooms, as though everything has been waiting for my return.

It’s enough to make me throw my arms around Papa again. “I missed you,” I rasp, hugging him tight and breathing in his scent. Salt and sea and earth, my shelter from the storm.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Papa says. “I thought you’d never come back to me.”

I swallow the ache in my throat, looking up into his face. “I’m so sorry for the way we parted. I realize now how much it must have hurt you to go through that kind of pain all over again.”

Papa frowns at me. “Again? What do you mean?”

“I ran away from you,” I whisper, blinking back tears. “The same way Mama ran away from you.”

He stiffens, his face going pale as a sheet, his gray eyes darting back and forth as he searches for something to say. “I… but—”

“Papa, I saw her. Yesterday. She’s living in Seattle, at the top of a skyscraper. She’s married and working at a magazine. She wears the ugliest shoes.” A pained laugh escapes me, new tears blurring my vision. “Oh, Papa, why didn’t you tell me? Was it just too painful for you to talk about?”

“No,” Papa says, the sorrow in his eyes so deep it hurts just to look at him. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to change the way you felt about yourself.” He manages a sad little half-smile, cupping my chin in his hand. “You are such a beautiful, smart, strong young woman. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to feel loved. Cherished. Priceless. Because that’s what you are, my dear girl. When your mother left you behind, she… she made such a mistake. I know it was my fault. I could have been a better husband to her—”

“No, Papa, it wasn’t your fault. Mama isn’t the right sort of woman for you. She’s… empty. That’s what I saw when I sat there in her beautiful, cold apartment. She said she had everything she could ever want, but… I could see she had nothing. Nothing that matters.”

Papa regards me with a curious look, then leans down to kiss the top of my head. “You are wise beyond your years, Orca.”

I murmur a laugh, squeezing his hand. “Only because you’re the greatest teacher.”

“No,” Papa says. “Experience is the greatest teacher. And that’s what I’ve deprived you of, keeping you here. The experience of life—real life, with friendships and first love and heartbreak and loss. For so long, I’ve tried to protect you from all of that. But it wasn’t fair of me. And when you left…” He presses his eyes shut, taking a steadying breath. “When you left, I realized that I hadn’t learned my lesson with your mother. The more I held onto her, the more she wanted to leave me. And without knowing it, I made the same mistake with you.”

I sniff, swiping a rogue tear off my cheek. “I learned something, too, in my time away. I realized how much I need you—and the island and the lighthouse and Lucius and our life here. All of it is so beautiful, so special. I never knew it before. I always imagined the Otherworld to be some sort of mysterious paradise. I always wondered if I belonged there… but I don’t. I belong here.” I give Papa a weary smile. “You’re my home. You always will be.”

Papa blinks the tears away from his eyes, pulling me into another long hug. “Thank you, Orca,” he rasps into my hair. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

51

Affectionate Friends

JACK

As if my hangover wasn’t bad enough, I now have the added pleasure of a split lip and the throbbing pain of Adam’s uppercut still aching in my stomach.

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