Unseen Messages(166)

The moment I touched him, splices of the past few hours attacked me.

Fainting mid-fight with the men holding my daughters.

A boat sloshing and roaring, taking me from Galloway.

Screaming as a large, looming ship accepted me into its belly.

Fainting again as I tried to fight and was held down by three men on a gurney.

Crying as needles and medicine were administered against my wishes.

And through it all, the horror of what would happen to Pippa and Coco. And how much Galloway would hate me for abandoning him so soon after he’d abandoned me.

I hadn’t held a funeral.

I hadn’t given him his last rites (not that I knew what that entailed).

I’d just...gone.

Ripping my hand from his, I swallowed. “Where are my family?”

“You mean the toddler and the girl?” He grinned. “Doing mightily well, I must say. The girl mentioned you’d been on that island for almost four years. It’s remarkable that you’re in the shape you are for such a length of time.”

“What shape?”

“Strong and fairly healthy. Your blood-work came back with some vitamin and mineral deficiencies along with very low iron levels, but you’re not dehydrated. It truly is a miracle.”

“It wasn’t a miracle.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Were you trained survivalists before the accident?”

“No. But it wasn’t a miracle. It was hard work and determination not to die.”

His shoulders lowered; his face softened. “It’s amazing what the threat of death can make a human achieve.”

Galloway.

Waterworks tried to come again. I dug fingertips into my eyes. “Can...can you take me to them? My children?”

As long as I was with Pip and Coco, I could keep the impending agony of Galloway’s death from consuming me a little longer. Long enough to figure out where we were and what this new future meant.

Stefan nodded. “Of course. That was the plan. I was going to give you lunch and then take you to them. I’m the nurse working with Doctor Finnegan.” He came closer, lowering his voice. “Do you remember what the captain told you last night? Or is it a blur?”

“The captain?”

“Yes, of this vessel.”

The ship.

“We’re on a boat?”

“More than just a boat.” His lips quirked. “You’re on Pacific Pearl.”

When I stared at him blankly, he laughed. “Have you heard of P&O Cruises?”

Vaguely, I remembered Madi mentioning them a few years ago as a short break leaving from Australia...to Fiji.

Oh, my God.

“You’re cruising the islands?”

“Yes. We recently renovated the boat. Took eighty-four thousand man-hours in just twelve days; pretty spectacular undertaking, if I say so myself. Anyway, with the new boat, we wanted a new route. As this is the inaugural cruise since the renovation, our customers were open to trying something unusual.

“Each night, we sail to an island never visited before and check it out before letting the guests off the next day to explore.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s how we found you. Our scouts had just traipsed through the forest to check the land for danger when they ran into...what did you call them?”

“Pippa and Coco.”

I kept the fact that Coco was short for Coconut.

That was private.

“Yes. Pippa and Coco. When you came and, umm...attacked them, they radioed for back-up but then you fainted and they took the opportunity to carry you on board the adventure craft to bring you back.

“And good job, they did. You fainted because of low levels of folate, Vitamin A, electrolytes, and unhealthy levels of magnesium.” His smile faltered. “You’re all anaemic as well. Common indicators of overwhelming tiredness, prolonged grief, and emotional distress. Not to mention, unavailable access to food.”

I didn’t speak...absorbing the ramifications of such a random event. The captain had saved our lives by sheer fluke, yet he’d been only minutes too late to save the love of my life.

Tears welled again, and this time, I couldn’t hold them back.

The longer I stood in society, the more manners and historical memories emerged. I remembered how to be polite even while screaming inside. I recalled decorum and how to lie to a stranger’s face...all while hiding how badly I was hurting.

And I was hurting.

So, so much.

The introvert part of me swung into full gear, no longer comfortable or at home with people I’d woven my life with.

That was over now.

Done.

Gone.

Just like Galloway.

Just like Conner.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” I wiped at my wet cheeks. “It’s—it’s just...” I sucked in a heavy breath unable to tell him that along with the three lives he’d rescued, one more was lost on the very beach holidaymakers wanted to sunbake and drink cocktails.

Oh, no...our house.

Our things.

My memory card with countless videos and photos. My notebooks. Galloway’s carvings, Coco’s doll, and Pippa's necklaces.

We’d just left them all.

I need them.

They were the only thing I had left of him. Of Connor. Of our private world.