Tommy stumbled out of the shallows with his board, face soaked with seawater and sweat, eyes blazing with joy.
"Daddy! I did it! Did you see? I stood up!" He crashed into my legs.
I crouched down and pulled him close. His small body radiated life—my blood, my legacy.
"I saw, Tommy. I'm so proud of you." I looked him in the eye, voice steady. "Remember this feeling, son. Whatever you do, whatever waves you face, Dad will be on shore rooting for you. I'll always be here."
Tommy beamed. He grabbed my hand, then Casey's, pulling us together.
Casey drifted over and leaned naturally against my shoulder. The sunset stretched our shadows across the soft sand, merging them into one.
I looked toward the horizon. The Oahu breeze blew gently, and my life had finally turned to its most beautiful page.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Casey
Hawaiian sunshine always felt too bright to be real.
Paul showed up downstairs every morning at seven sharp, wearing that washed-out linen shirt, carrying two bags—one with breakfast, one with Tommy's toys.
Tommy got used to having him around. Every morning, he'd press his face against the window, and the second he spotted Paul, he'd shout, "Daddy's here!" Then he'd scramble down the stairs to let him in.
First thing Paul did was crouch down for a high-five, asking if Tommy slept okay, if he had any dreams. Tommy would ramble about some nonsensical dream, and Paul would listen like it mattered, even asking what happened next. I'd stand in the kitchen frying eggs, listening to them talk in the living room, and sometimes I'd drift off, like mornings like this had been going on for years.
Weekends, he took Tommy to the beach. Tommy used to just splash around in the shallows. Now Paul taught him to lie on a board and wait for waves. He was still tiny, wobbling on thatlittle board, but every time he caught a wave, he'd shriek with joy.
This past month, I almost believed this brightness was all there was. A happiness I hadn't dared hope for in six years. But this Wednesday afternoon, reality slapped me across the face and shattered the dream.
The air was suffocating. I'd just picked Tommy up from preschool. He was excited, showing me his gold star sticker, clutching my shirt. I was mentally planning dinner. Paul had reminded me that morning he'd be home early—wanted to take me to some new vegetarian place he'd found.
Then I turned that familiar corner and stopped cold.
Three black Lincolns sat parked along the quiet street, completely out of place. Polished to a shine, glaring in the sun. Men in black suits and sunglasses stood by the cars, hands folded, motionless, blocking the road I walked every day.
"Mommy, is that Daddy's car?" Tommy looked up, innocent.
My palms started sweating. I pulled him closer. "No, baby. It's not."
I tried to steer Tommy around them, just wanted to get home fast, but two of them stepped into our path. They didn't speak. Just stared down at me with that trained, cold look, like I wasn't a person, just an obstacle.
"Miss White," the one in front said, voice like ice. "Mrs. Vincent wants to see you."
I froze. Mrs. Vincent? Paul's stepmother? Elizabeth?
I felt Tommy's hand trembling in mine. He sensed something wrong. I forced myself to sound steady. "I don't know any Mrs. Vincent. If you don't move, I'm calling the police."
He didn't flinch. Just stepped aside slightly, gesturing toward the middle car. The rear window rolled down. A face with perfect makeup appeared.
"Miss White," she said, unhurried. "I don't like waiting. For the child's sake, I suggest you make the wise choice."
For the child's sake. The opening line people like her always used. The most effective threat.
I bit down hard, shielding Tommy as I approached the car. The closer I got, the more that expensive perfume mixed with the car's blasting AC hit me. Made me want to gag.
Elizabeth sat in shadow. She didn't even turn to look at me, just adjusted the velvet gloves on her hands.
"So you're the one who made Paul insist on abandoning the family business to stay on this fish-stinking island?" She finally turned, eyes scanning me with contempt. "Miss White, I assumed any woman who could turn Paul's head would have something special about her. Turns out his taste is pathetic."
