Page 85 of The Otherworld

She’s so young; she’ll get over me. Jack might fantasize about her for a while, but it won’t be long before his head turns for another exciting girl with fewer dating restrictions.

It’s better that he doesn’t know what happened between Orca and me.

It’s better for all of us.

28

The Letter

ORCA

“How many days did you say that young man was here?”

“Three, Papa.”

“Including today?”

“No. He was only here for a few hours today.”

Papa nods, picking up a gnarled branch of driftwood. We’re walking down the beach, collecting shells and driftwood while Lucius enjoys a romp through the shallows.

“And was he badly injured?” Papa asks.

“Not badly, no. He had a broken rib, and his ankle was sprained. Besides that, just some cuts and bruises. I cleaned the wounds right away and treated them with witch hazel and aloe.”

“Could he not clean his own wounds?”

“No, he was unconscious when I found him. It was the first night of the storm, and he showed up at the door. But by the time I got to the door, he had collapsed. Poor man. I had to drag him inside.”

Papa seems surprised—and, dare I hope, impressed?

“He was soaking wet,” I continue, reminding myself to include every commendable detail of the situation. “So I had to take off his clothes and get him dry and warm again.”

At this, Papa stops walking and stares at me, taken aback.

“That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it, Papa? I was trying to follow what you taught me. About exposure.”

Papa shakes himself out of his daze and nods. “Yes, Orca. It was the right thing to do. I’m glad you didn’t panic, and you relied upon your knowledge. That’s not easy to do under stress.”

“Well, I was only remembering what you taught me. Adam was unconscious for a little while, but he woke up on his own. If he hadn’t, I would have called the coast guard. But I thought, with the weather so bad, the coast guard wouldn’t have been able to help, and…” I fidget with a broken shell, glancing back up at Papa. “To be honest, I wanted to help Adam myself. I wanted to prove that I was capable of it.”

Papa squints at me through the sunlight. “And did you?”

“I don’t know. Did I?”

“Of course you did, Orca.” Papa steps over a driftwood log to come up beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I am very proud of you, my girl. I knew the island would be safe in your hands.”

Happy tears sting my eyes as a smile blossoms on my lips. “Thank you, Papa.”

His words rekindle the hope in my heart and ease some of my sorrow at losing Adam. I know it won’t be forever. Papa is proud of me—and finally convinced of my strength and capability. Just as I had hoped.

* * *

“How was the Otherworld?” I ask Papa at dinner, watching as he divides roasted vegetables and fresh seared fish among two plates. I’m sitting at the table with the wedding photo nestled discreetly in my lap. Mama’s smile gives me the confidence I need to face this conversation.

“It was just as I remembered it,” Papa says.

“And when is the coast guard coming out to install the new light?”

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