My curiosity and my need to run away from the darkness swallowing all the good things I still had in my life.
"So, please." I took a hold of her hands clasped in front of her and begged. "Please tell me. At least tell me I'm not insane and that the island truly exists. Tell me I didn't come all this way for nothing."
Macy smiled softly, squeezing my hands. "I'll tell you what I told your mother almost thirty years ago." She took a moment, dragging her thumb over the top of my hand. "You can't run away from destiny, no matter how hard you might try to. You can't run from who you're supposed to be, no matter what, which is why I knew one day you'd be back here."
My brow furrowed, but I didn't dare to open my mouth for fear of somehow stopping her from talking.
"I do not know why she ran away, Kaira," Macy added. "She never spoke of her reasons, but I know she was afraid and she was heartbroken. I have never seen another person so heartbroken." My heart clenched painfully, just imagining what my mom was going through all those years ago. "So yes, I know she wouldn't want you to be back here where her journey with Nevermere Island ended, but as I've said, I also knew you would be back." She leaned back, letting go of my hands. "Destiny cannot be escaped. It can be played with, maybe even taunted and sometimes molded to fit our own needs, but never escaped. You can't run away from what you are, from who you are."
"What do you mean?"
Her head tilted, examining me, her eyes scanning every part of my face. "I mean?—"
"Auntie Macy," Christian interrupted, "I truly am sorry to bother you, but a new delivery came and they're asking to speak with you."
I looked at him, annoyed by the fact that he was interrupting just when she was about to tell me something important. But Macy just looked at him, smiled, and nodded.
"I'll be there in just a moment, darling. Give me five minutes." Christian simply nodded and looked at me with an apologetic expression on his face, but the moment was broken. Whatever it was that Macy was about to tell me was lost, and when she looked back at me, gone was the expression she wore earlier. "There's a ferry leaving from the pier at six in the morning tomorrow," she said instead. "It'll take you where you need to go."
Macy stood up, as if she had completely forgotten about our conversation mere seconds ago.
"Wait." I stood up with her, stopping her in her tracks. "You didn't tell me. You were about to tell me what you meant with those words."
She rounded the table and placed her hand on my shoulder, the top of her head barely reaching my chin. "All will be revealed when it's supposed to, Kaira. But ask yourself—is the truth you're seeking something that you want or something you need? Because some ghosts are meant to stay just that, ghosts, and some stories are better left unfinished." She nodded to herself, before letting her hand drop, and stepped back. "Think about it, okay?"
Her words made me stop, but every single thought led to an outcome I was already familiar with. The truth existing somewhere out there was calling to me. I could sense it deep inside my voice, calling my name. And just like in my dreams, there was something here beyond my understanding. Somethingthat made my mom run and never go back to her home. Something that stopped her from ever telling me the truth.
Perhaps the truth wouldn't be what I wanted, but it was better than living inside this purgatory, even if it broke my heart. Macy didn't tell me all the answers, but she did confirm the island exists. She confirmed there is a ferry, and that's at least a start, if nothing else.
8
KAIRA
Ingrid once toldme that when your life is at a turning point, you feel it in your entire body. In your bones, in your heart, in your stomach, in the way your throat keeps closing and your heart keeps hammering as if you've just run a marathon.
That's how she felt when she met her now husband and just before she gave birth, but I finally understood what she meant.
Because I couldn't sleep. I could barely eat my lunch after I went back to the B&B, rereading through my mother's journals, trying to figure things out for myself, but, if anything, I was only left more confused. This time I noticed some other things. I noticed the way my mom wrote, as if she was talking about, for the lack of a better word,magic.
But magic didn't exist, right? I was one of those people who liked to believe that everything around us was magical, but magic like what we saw in the movies didn't exist. It couldn't. I never saw anyone do anything remotely magical in my entire life, but the way my mom spoke of her dreams, of that place, felt as if she was talking about something that was simply impossible to exist.
Was it really that impossible?
That little thought kept me awake the entire night, making me toss and turn as I questioned everything I ever knew. My mom believed in the supernatural, but was it just a belief or was there something more? Something I could never see.
Questions plagued my mind as I left The Lighthouse B&B and packed my bag into my rental car, driving then through the thick fog toward the pier with the robotic voice from my navigation as my only companion. I had spent an hour on the phone with Ingrid last night, telling her about the ferry and the possibility of going to the island, and I could feel her fear as clear as my own. But she didn't try to stop me.
Her fear wasn't misplaced, because I felt it too, but more than fear I felt this urge to go there. My ribs kept closing around my heart every time I even thought of going back home instead of the island. And it wasn't just my body that was rebelling against the very idea of abandoning this mission—my mind did too.
I kept rubbing my hand against my sternum as I drove down to the pier, feeling like… Like I was missing something, or maybe someone. I didn't want to examine the way I felt unsettled by the fact that I didn't sleep last night—not because I was tired, but because this meant I hadn't dreamed ofhimand, weirdly, in this past year, no matter how surreal and how unsettling his entire presence was, he was the one constant in my life. Not dreaming of him last night felt wrong somehow. It felt as if I was missing a person. A person whose name I didn't know. A person whose face I couldn't even see.
Even though those dreams were nothing but morbid, filled with more pain and grief than I could handle, they were also somehow comforting, as if at least in my dreams, I wasn't as alone as I was during my waking moments.
Shaking my head I refocused on the road in front of me and the darkness feeding into the fog that had thickened since last night. I hadn't thought it was possible for it to get worse than italready was. The church bells rang louder and louder, following me from the B&B. As I came closer to the pier, I remembered the old Ashbourne church was sitting almost opposite to the pier, defying the time that tried to destroy it since no one seemed to be taking care of it.
"Your destination is on your right," the voice from the navigation said, making me slow down. The rental company had agreed to let me leave the car at the parking lot at the pier, and they would be sending someone to collect it during the day.
I just hoped this was the parking lot.
