“This is incredible,” she said, swallowing a mouthful of fish.
Ana-Luz waved the praise away like it was nothing. “The ocean and the land give what is needed when one is respectful.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a while. Emma watched the village move around them—children playing some game that involved a lot of running and shrieking, women hanginglaundry, men repairing a fishing net. The resort was beautiful, state-of-the-art, and impressive, but the village had a heartbeat.
“The coin I gave you,” Ana-Luz said suddenly, her voice casual in a way that made Emma’s instincts prick up, “do you still have it?”
Emma hesitated. The question sounded loaded somehow, though she couldn’t say why. She reached into her bag and pulled out the small drawstring pouch where she kept it. The metal was warm against her palm as she handed it across.
Ana-Luz studied it in silence. Her thumb traced the spiral pattern. The elder closed her eyes for a moment, and her expression shifted into something thoughtful, almost grave.
She passed it back. “Keep it close. Keep it with you.”
Emma turned the coin over in her fingers, feeling the weight. “Is there a story about this one? Like the one you were telling the children?”
“Many stories,” Ana-Luz’s smile was cryptic. “But stories are only useful when you are ready to understand them.”
Ana-Luz rose and disappeared into her house before Emma could push—and she wanted to push, wanted to dig beneath the surface the way she always did.
She returned carrying a glass bottle sealed with a cork. The liquid inside was deep amber, almost glowing in the afternoon light. Citrus slices floated, suspended, perfect as specimens.
“For you,” Ana-Luz pressed the bottle into Emma’s hands. “My own rum punch.”
Emma laughed. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“It is for sharing.” Ana-Luz’s eyes sparkled. A sly smile that was pure mischief appeared. “Perhaps with your tall warrior.”
Emma choked on air. When had Ana-Luz seen her with Zach? “He’s not—he’s not mine. Zach is just—we’re colleagues. We work together. That’s all.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ana-Luz looked unconcerned by her denial.
“I’m serious. He barely tolerates me.”
“The man who watches you like you might disappear?” Ana-Luz shook her head, eyes dancing with mirth. “Yes, very barely.”
Heat flooded Emma’s cheeks. “That’s not—you don’t understand, he’s protective of the resort and I’m part of?—”
Oh, shit.She hadn't told anyone she was coming here. Zach was going to kill her when he found out she'd come alone.
“You tell yourself what you need to.” Ana-Luz patted her arm, eyes twinkling. “But the island knows.”
Emma left with her cheeks burning, the bottle of rum punch warm in her bag, and a smile tugging at her lips despite her trepidation over Zach's reaction.
The walk back to the resort took her along a maintenance path that skirted the property’s eastern edge. Palms rustled overhead, their fronds casting shifting shadows on the packed earth.
Emma’s mind was still half in the village, reviewing what she’d learned: the lionfish treatment might be useful for the resort’s safety protocols. Perhaps Ana-Luz would be willing to teach the lifeguards. And the boat captains. Of course, most of them were from surrounding islands, so they might already know.
A man in a green maintenance shirt trimmed vegetation beside the trail. Her stride didn’t falter. He was about forty feet ahead, bent over a wheelbarrow, clippers in hand. She gave him a polite nod as she passed. He nodded back.
She kept walking. Five steps. Ten.
Something nagged at the back of her mind. A splinter ofwrong. Emma slowed. She knew her staff. Every one of them. He hadn’t looked familiar.
A subcontractor?They contracted with several local companies for specialized work. But the maintenance contracts were all finalized. She approved them herself.
Maybe new. Maybe temporary—except she reviewed hiring paperwork just yesterday. No new groundskeepers.
The certainty settled in her gut like a stone.
