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“I don’t want to star on the six o’clock news,” I tell her. “We’re calling them.”
“No.” She breathes faster again, struggling to her feet. A net snags her ankle as she steps onto the jetty, tripping her up—and I lunge to catch her before she hits the wooden planks.
She’s warm against my chest, curling into me like I’m the safest place around. My heart lurches.
I set her down and back away.
No police? Am I an asshole if I agree to that?
Or am I an asshole if I call them against her will? What if she has good reasons to keep them away?
“A doctor, at least.” Feels like we’re bargaining for my soul. My humanity. Because I can’t just let her go like this; can’t shrug my shoulders and go back to my errands for the day like she won’t haunt my every step. “Let me call a doctor in case you’re hurt and don’t realize it yet.”
Don’t leave.
Trust me enough for this. Please.
Her mouth twists as she peers up at me. Slender fingers pluck at her ruined dress, and the morning sunshine picks out caramel strands of her brown hair. The breeze smells like brine.
“Just a doctor,” she murmurs.
I nod, chest thudding. “Just a doctor. I promise.”
When I stretch out my hand, she takes it without pause.
* * *
Four hours later, my mystery girl is bundled in blankets in my back garden, sitting at the small wrought iron table where I always drink coffee first thing. She stares out to sea, the waves so close where the garden drops away with the cliff, sipping from a mug of hot, sweet cocoa. Steam curls from the mug into the air.
The local doctor, a woman in her fifties called Dr Nahum, looks pensive as she walks up the stone path. I hand her a coffee when she reaches the back door.
“Well?” I’m so antsy, there’s a swarm of bees in my gut. “Is she hurt? Can you tell what happened?”
This whole situation is like a fever dream. Or a fairy tale—one of those old-timey ones, with the undercurrent of darkness. Bargains and blood.
What if the girl was hurt? What if she was running away from something? I left the two of them alone for the examination, but if I don’t get some answers soon, I’ll go mad.
The doctor lifts a shoulder, sipping from her coffee. “You’re not her next of kin, Mac. You know I can’t tell you anything personal.”
Frustration swamps me. I grip my own mug so tight the china creaks. “Right now thereisno next of kin, and I’m taking care of her. If there are injuries, I need to know about them.”
My mystery girl already agreed to stay with me in the harbor master’s cottage until she’s back on her feet. I didn’t even plan to make that offer when I brought her here, but she looked so settled and happy in my garden, the words tumbled out without thought.
She beamed up at me like her personal savior. Like I make the sun rise and set each day.
“No injuries.” Dr Nahum looks tired even though it’s barely midday. I know how she feels. This day has already lasted five years, and it’s only part way done. “And no memory—but you knew that already.”
Yeah, I knew. Christ, I can’t imagine it—getting wiped clean like that. Would I prefer it, forgetting all the stupidest things I’ve done in my time? All those bleak, lonely nights that slipped into despair?
Dr Nahum sips her coffee and goes on. “I offered to take her in until her memory comes back, but she was very insistent. She wants to stay with you, and there’s nothing actually wrong with her. No reason to ignore her wishes.” A side-eye. “Areyoualright with that?”
It’s a fair question. If you look up ‘loner’ in the dictionary, there’s probably a picture of my face. The locals tease me plenty about keeping my distance, rarely coming to the local bar for a drink—but what they don’t understand is I’m not staying away to be snobbish. I’m ill-equipped. The most casual conversation can make my heart pound.
So I’m not who you’d expect to take in waifs and strays. Every Halloween, trick-or-treaters skip the harbor master’s cottage. Apparently I’m too stern and scary, even on All Hallow’s Eve.
An unpleasant thought occurs. “You’re sure she didn’t hit her head?”
Because why else would she latch ontomeof all people? Why wouldn’t she keep her distance like everyone else?
