Surely the rain wasn’t so bad she couldn’t at least get to Portland tonight. As she threw her things into her suitcase, she glanced out the window and saw a few boats out there on the water. It wasn’t a hurricane, not even a squall. Just a storm. She’d run down to the dock and see if there was a boat she could borrow. Sean owned a speedboat, and she’d learned how to drive his. A speedboat would do, or a fishing boat. She’d even take a rowboat if that was her only choice. Borrow first, apologize later. Jack would understand.
With her things packed, she grabbed Hugo’s coat and threw it on, went down the steps to the front door, and walked out into the rain. It was a cold rain, fast and driving, but it didn’t matter to Lucy. Her mind was set. She was getting back to California by tomorrow morning, and nothing and no one could stop her.
Lucy put her head down and walked into the wind. No amount of tightening the cord on her hood would keep it from blowing back. Forget it. She’d just get wet.
The dock was ahead. She could see the two lights at the end of it, but the boats were gone. Of course. It was night. All the household staff had gone back to the mainland.
There had to be more boats somewhere. This was an island owned by a man worth millions of dollars. Where was the boathouse?
Lucy glanced up and down the beach, saw nothing, peered through the trees swaying wildly in the wind, and spotted a small stone building. Maybe that was it. She lugged her suitcase back up the path and took the fork into the woods that led toward the stone building.
When she got closer, she realized it wasn’t a boathouse but a storage shed behind Hugo’s cottage. But he could tell her where to find a boat.
She knocked on his door, pounded on it.
“Hugo?” she called out. “Hugo, it’s Lucy!”
He opened the door, phone in his hand. He was talking to someone, but he didn’t seem at all surprised to see her.
“Call you back,” he said and shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans. Hugo must have just gotten out of the shower. His hair was damp and his feet were bare.
“Hugo, please, I need to get to Portland.”
“Not tonight, you don’t.” He reached out and took her by the arm, then pulled her inside his house. It must have been Jack on the phone.
“Let me go,” she demanded and pulled her arm from his grasp.
She started to turn, to open the door, when Hugo said something that stopped her.
“This isn’t what Christopher would want you to do, and you know it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucy’s chest burned withwhite-hot rage. She shook her head at Hugo, not believing what she’d heard. “You have no idea what Christopher wants or doesn’t want. You don’t know him, and you don’t know me.”
Hugo didn’t back down. “I know you want to adopt him. I know you need money. I know it will take a miracle for you to get it. You said so yourself. Well, here’s your miracle.” He held out his hands to indicate the entirety of Clock Island, that she was here, that she was standing in the middle of the miracle. “There are only two days left. The game isn’t over. Why give up now?”
“The game? The game I’m losing?”
“You’re one point behind.”
“Who cares about points?” Lucy snapped. “I have to get back to Christopher. He’s freaking out right now. I know he is. He needs me.”
“He wants you now. He needs you forever. You can give him what he wants by leaving, or you can give him what he needs by staying and winning this stupid game. And you can win it. Any idiot can win Jack’s games. Obviously.” He pointed at his face.
She laughed a sharp, sudden laugh, then burst into tears.
“Lucy…” Gently, Hugo put his hands on her shoulders.
“I have to go,” she said through tears. “I can’t be here while he’s thereby himself. You don’t know what it’s like to be a child sitting alone in a room and knowing nobody is coming to help me.”
“Helpme?” Hugo said softly.
“I mean, help you. Help him. You know what I mean.”
“No,” he said. “Tell me what you mean. Who was supposed to come and help you?”
Lucy turned away from him, hands on her forehead. “I thought my sister was going to die,” she said. “She spiked a fever, so they rushed her to the hospital. There was no time to get a babysitter, so they took me and dumped me in the waiting room at the hospital. Alone.” She met his eyes. “I was only eight. They were gone for hours. Hours, Hugo. I could tell time. It was five hours I was alone in that room. Nobody came for me. Not even to check on me. Not even to tell me if Angie was dead or alive.”
