Grayson yelped, staggering back across the porch. His father, swaying and reeking of beer.
“I said,” the old man slurred, “where’re you goin’?”
“I—” Too high. Grayson cleared his throat and reached for the lower register he needed to survive. “I couldn’t sleep, sir. So I thought I’d put a few things in the truck for tomorrow morning.” His lungs felt like they couldn’t expand any further, yet his head swam with lack of oxygen. Lloyd Miller was not a happy drunk.
His father’s too-pale, bloodshot eyes pierced into his for a few tense moments.
“If anythin’ gets stole from tha’ truck, you’re payin’ for it.” Without waiting for a response, his father staggered into the house, banging the screen door behind him.
Grayson let out a shaky breath. The last thing he needed was to show up at orientation with a black eye. Slowly, he rounded the house, toward the truck. The moment he knew he was out of sight, Grayson bolted. His boots pounded the pitted dirt drive and kicked up sprays of dust in his wake. The red lights were a siren song, calling him toward the sea.
There was a man leaning against the car door, staring up at the night sky. At the sound of a madman running in his direction, the man straightened. Grayson slid to a stop in front of him, panting.
“Are you… my driver?” he wheezed.
“I’ll assume you’re Grayson Miller,” the other man said with a laugh. “Hop in. Just the one bag?” He was older, with a slight paunch and thinning hair.
“Yeah.” Grayson threw his worldly possessions into the back seat and scrambled through the front passenger door.
“Settle in,” the driver said as he situated himself behind the wheel. “It’s gonna be a long night.”
∞∞∞
Grayson awoke with a jolt when the engine cut. Morning light streamed through the windshield, and in the distance, the ocean glittered. It was hard to believe that just fifty years back, this city was nowhere near the ocean.
“We’re here,” the older man said, yawning as he stepped out of the car to stretch. “Orientation facility is just over there. Go through the big glass doors, and reception will take care of you.”
“Thank you,” Grayson said, dazed.I’m here. I’m in Gainesville. I’m going to leave the mainland.No matter how many times he repeated these facts, none of them felt real.
“Good luck.” The man slid back into his now-bug-splattered sedan and pulled out of the empty parking lot. Grayson clutched his bag to his body and tottered on numb legs toward the facility entrance.
The sliding doors were larger than normal, like the ones he’d seen at his old hospital. They whirred open to reveal an artfully curved, oak reception desk. The woman behind it smiled at him.
“Can I get your name please?” Her hair was intricately braided and fell over her shoulders. A name tag peeked outbetween the strands, with “Destiny” stamped across it. Some kind of sign from the universe, Grayson decided.
“Grayson Miller,” he said hoarsely. When was the last time he had a sip of water?
“Miller… Ah, here you are. Labor and delivery RN slated for the Omega midwife program?”
“That’s me.” He could hardly hear her over the pounding in his ears.
“Well, let me show you to your room first, then I’ll have about a million documents for you to sign.” Destiny stood, a neat pencil skirt just skating over the tops of her knees. “Follow me, Mr. Miller.”
His body was on autopilot as he trailed after the receptionist, watching her braids sway across her back. She was wearing some kind of sweet perfume, like vanilla and caramel. It left a faint trail in her wake. She paused at a simple, navy door and unlocked it with a key card. The Paeil Islands government seal—an albatross with an olive branch in its beak—was stamped across it.
“Here’s your room key,” Destiny said. “You’ll just be in this room for one night, and you’ll be out of here tomorrow morning.” She flashed him a reassuring smile. Her pearly teeth made for a beautiful contrast against her deep brown skin. “When you’re all settled, come back out to reception, and I’ll get you started on that paperwork.”
Grayson staggered into the room and collapsed on the narrow mattress inside. The room was tiny—just big enough for a bed, wardrobe, desk, and bathroom. The linens were all crisp white and the floor polished tile.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, processing. He was actually here. He’d pulled it off. Everything felt surreal, like he might wake up in his childhood bedroom at any moment.
Grayson pulled his phone from his jeans. It was still in airplane mode—he was too much of a coward to see the furious calls and messages roll in once his family realized he was gone. His thumb hovered over the screen.
Nope.
He tossed it onto the pillow and got to his feet.
Chapter 2
