I park my bike off to the side and frown down at my phone. It says I’m supposed to gonorth, but that’s impossible.
I gaze around the clearing, shining my flashlight in a slow circle—and that’s when I see it. A small human-made opening to my right, so thin it would be invisible unless you were specifically looking for it. Without another thought, I dismount and head toward it, hoping it will take me to Eloise.
I make my way through what I can only describe as a mazeof seagrapes and Australian pines to get to the location Eloise sent. The tangled branches of the seagrapes stretch just above my sightline, so densely packed that it would be impossible to traverse through them save for the narrow path cut through the underbrush. The leaves from the Australian pines lay in a thick blanket across the ground, covering the sand with dense brown foliage that feels a lot like walking across a mattress. To make matters worse, the pines have dropped their horrible spiked fruits, and with each step, they slice and tear into my favorite pair of leather boots.
The path is so narrow in places that I have to turn sideways to fit, but the struggle is worth it when I emerge on the other side and see the beautiful, hidden beach before me.
The beach is a good size—a little larger than a tennis court’s length from the shore to the seagrape “forest.” I look to my right, noticing the faded white tip of a sailboat peeking out from a tall thicket of sea oats. And somehow, without checking my GPS, I know that’s where I have to go.
As I get closer, I can see the boat is lifted slightly off the ground, and its hull is locked between two massive Australian pine trunks. I’m not sure how it came to wind up there, but I do know I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
“Eloise!” I call, cupping my hands over my mouth to project my voice. “Eloise, are you in there?”
A few moments later, a pink-tipped head pops up past the rail, and my heart sings at the sight of her eyes illuminated by the moonlight, shining as bright as fog lights in a storm.
“Riot!” she whisper-shouts, waving her hands like a crazed person. “Over here!”
“I see you. Why are we whispering?”
She waves me closer, responding only when I’m within a few feet of the boat. “Sound travels. People could probably hear you halfway down the beach.”
“I don’t think anyone’s out this late, sweet girl.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks turn the slightest tinge of pink under the light of the moon. “Well, just in case…”
I move closer to the boat, looking for a ladder so I can join her. “How do I get up there?”
She points toward the back. “The swim ladder is gone, but there’s a rope you can pull yourself up with.”
Ah. Lovely.
As soon as I’m on the deck, Eloise waves once more and disappears into the darkened cabin. I follow, fully expecting to find a moldy, destroyed interior, but I couldn’t be further from the truth.
What I thought was a darkened, cramped space is a decent-sized cabin. A small sunroof installed in the ceiling lets in moonlight, illuminating a downrightcozyliving space. The walls and floor appear to have been spared water damage, though most of the appliances are unusable.
A small pull-out couch sits along the left wall, with several shelves around the room housing various trinkets, shells, and plant life. In addition, she’s removed the stove and filled the space with a small, barren bookshelf. Only two titles are on the shelves, and they’re practically falling to pieces.
She notices me admiring and walks to them, running her fingertips lovingly over the spines. “I found these washed up on shore in a crate last year. They look rough, but they’re amazingly still readable. Sometimes I like to think about who they belonged to. If they’re still around. If they’re missing these two.” Her lips quirk in a shy smile. “If they weremybooks, I would want someone to take care of them even when I’m gone. Especially then.”
I turn my head, memorizing every dip and curve of her profile, each subtle freckle and scar. She takes such care of these things for others, for people she’ll never meet, people who don’t know or care that she exists. But who’s taking care of her? “You’re a good person, Eloise. Much better than most.”Better than I deserve, which is why I can never let you go. A man only gets this lucky once.
Her mouth twists. “Maybe. Or maybe I just have a lot of time to think about these things.”
“I think you’re underestimating yourself. Your heart.”
Before she can respond, a meow breaks out from somewhere up above, diverting my attention. I look up and am surprised to find a small orange tabby crawling through a hatch-like opening cut into the ceiling. He’s a scruffy thing, with one ear that looks like it’s been chewed off and a stubbed tail that extends no more than two inches past its rear. On the same side of his mangled ear, the cat is missing an eye, though the other one is a beautiful mix of swirling greens and blues.
Usually, I would be excited to see the animal. But this one has a feathered creature clutched in its jowls, dripping red liquid from several puncture points onto the floor.
Sweet Lord above.“Uh… Eloise?”
“Yeah?” She turns around, sees the cat, and a delighted sound pours from her mouth. “Oh! Murder Mittens came to say hello!”
“Murder… Mittens?”
“Yeah. Murten for short. He, ah… likes to bring me special presents.” She gestures to the bird that Murten placed at her feet. “I think he’s worried I’m starving or something, which is cute since he was all skin and bones and too weak to hunt when I first found him. I like to think he’s returning the favor.” She turns to me in all seriousness. “That, or he’s just a complete psychopath who wants to freak me out.”
A laugh bursts from my chest, so strong and loud it startles all three of us. “I fear it may be the latter.”
