We arrive to the side of the island that I was supposed to search, and my stomach drops when we turn a corner of the far cove and a wide dock appears before us. It’s nestled above a well-landscaped and sunny outcropping, jagged rocks behind it. The speedboat we saw days ago floats there.
Hank and I stare at it all blankly until something washes over his expression, half shock and half disbelief.
The baronet cuts the engine, and I turn to Hank.
“Okay. Shit. I am so sorry.”
He looks at me with his eyes wide. “When we scouted the island…”
“I didn’t make it all the way around my cove. I remember thinking I need to make sure to tell you.” I try to remember through the haze. It seems like a million years ago. “Didn’t I tell you? I must have told you.”
Hank puts his head in his hands. “No,” he says. “Elliot. No, you didn’t.”
Guilt nearly crushes me. I feel like I could puke.
I look to our rescuer. “Why do you have a dock on the island?” I ask, confused.
He frowns. “Because this ismyisland. I live seasonally on a second island,” he adds, gesturing toward the dot we’ve seen in the distance, “but I visit here once a week. I typically just dock to enjoy some fishing, but after a wooden raft crashed near my home, I decided I should explore down the shore a bit.” He frowns and gestures to the speedboat. “You’re lucky I did,” he adds brusquely.
Hank and I follow like zombies to the speedboat, both of us in a bit of shock. The baronet gets us set up with life jackets before starting the motor and roaring across the water. Wind whips through the air and sprays of cool sea water wet my face. Behind us, the island where we’ve been trapped shrinks, slowly disappearing. Only a few minutes later, we approach the second island, where a large, stone mansion sits, nestled in the trees.
“Gentlemen,” August Spencehill urges us, and we follow him into the ornately dull mansion.
The exhaustion on Hank’s face as he looks around just about pushes me over the edge. If I had found the dock, we could have stayed close to it. The baronet would have discovered us and brought us here to safety. I’m so mad at myself I can barely handle it.
A younger man with a neutral expression appears and gives us bottles of water and cups of chicken broth, and the baronet walks off, stalking down a corridor. Hank and I are led to a small waiting room, the attendant points out the bathroom, and we’re given a moment of privacy.
I sip the chicken broth, and heavenly, nourishing warmth ignites my brain.
Hank doesn’t even consider his food. He goes immediately into the bathroom, turns on the faucet, and locks the door.
I step closer to the door. “I’m really sorry that I didn’t locate the dock when we first got here!” I holler, scared that I’ve lost him.
After everything we just went through, Hank has been seeing me the way I want to see myself. What if now, he decides that I’m a mess after all?
“Elliot, I’m using the facility. I need a minute!”
I sit on the puffy red couch, and the second my aching body lands, I let out a moan. “Oh god,” I say, falling onto the cushions and landing in soft paradise. “Oh! What the actual fuck. So good.”
There’s a rattle in the bathroom, so I go back to the door. “You okay in there?” I ask.
When he doesn’t answer, I try knocking.
Hank throws the door to the bathroom open. The sink is running, and he points at it with wild eyes. “Hot water!” he says like it’s a miracle. He splashes some on his face, rubbing it into his beard to emphasize. “Hot water!” Just as quickly, he notices his reflection in the mirror and gasps, stumbling back against the wall.
“Oh my god!” he says, hands to his cheeks.
I look around the bathroom. “Hank, we’re inside. And we’re not just kind of inside. We’re inside a mansion. A poorly decorated mansion.”
He’s lathering up his arms now with a small bar of soap, gazing at his reflection with horror. When I realize how filthy I am, I haul my body over and join him, squeezing up beside the small porcelain sink.
My face is weird. I have a beard, and there are red spots and rashes all over, and my lips are chapped. It’s horrifying. And fascinating!
Hank stiffens and reclaims some of his space at the sink. “I’m still reckoning with the reality that you missed the dock.”
I wince. “I know.”
“The problem is,” Hanks says, face dripping, “not just that you were careless to significant consequence. But it troubles mefurther that neither of us figured this out sooner. The speedboat, for god’s sake! At the same time, I’m very excited about this sink, and I’m high on marijuana for the first time in a decade. Your raft idea also, ultimately, saved us. And when we tell people about what happened, it’s absolutely vital that my father never learns that minor royalty stumbled on me having sex and trespassing on his property. It would kill him because he knows it would kill my grandmother if she were alive to hear it.”
