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She studied Liam, this newfound kin,whose youthful countenance bore the tentative shadows of the man he wouldbecome. He appeared small somehow, despite his height—a boy standing on thecusp of manhood, yet enveloped by the gravity of the situation that unfoldedbefore him. He couldn’t be more than thirteen.
"Half-brother," Roxanneechoed hollowly, the sibilant hiss of betrayal lacing her tone. Her anger hadnot subsided, and Charlotte could see the flicker of hurt behind the fiercenessin her sister's eyes—a reflection of her own inner turmoil.
Henry's eyes, the same shade of stormysea as Charlotte's, held a mingled expression of remorse and resolve."Roxanne, it's complicated. I wanted to—"
"Complicated?" Roxanne cuthim off, her nostrils flaring. "No, abandoning your family is complicated.This is just cowardice."
Liam shifted uncomfortably beside hisfather, his young face etched with the weight of the moment. He seemed toshrink back, his eyes darting between Roxanne's seething form and Charlotte'spleading stance.
Charlotte's heart ached for Liam. Shecould see the confusion written all over his features, a mirror to the chaosswirling within her own chest. Beside her, the produce section lay forgotten,and it seemed they had now gathered a small crows at the far end of the aisle.
Charlotte wished the earth wouldswallow her whole, take her away from the piercing stares and the raw, exposedwound that was her family's pain.
"This isn't the place—"
"Isn't it?" Roxanne's retortto Charlotte was immediate, her anger a tempest that refused to be contained."He made his choices. And now he can live with them. In public."
"We should go," Henrymurmured, defeat clouding his features. But his eyes, those windows to a soulmarred by absence and distance, lingered on his daughters, seeking somethingonly they could grant—forgiveness, understanding, or perhaps merelyacknowledgment of his existence in their world once again.
Charlotte’s gaze flickered betweenHenry and the boy who shared his blood. "We're not going to solve anythingby hurling accusations in the middle of a grocery store."
“Don't." Roxanne's voice brokethrough, laced with decades of hurt. "Don't make excuses for him. Notafter all this time."
"Nobody is making excuses,"Charlotte countered, her own heart heavy, yet striving for some semblance ofpeace. "But we can't talk like this—not here, not now. We need to besomewhere private, where we can sit down and—"
"With him?" Her eyes narrowedat Henry, who seemed to shrink under her scrutiny. “No chance with me.”
Before more words could be exchanged,Roxanne turned sharply on her heel, her skirt flaring behind her as she stormedaway from the small tragedy unfolding between the shelves. Charlotte hesitatedonly a moment, casting a glance back at Liam, whose expression was etched withconfusion and fear, and at Henry, whose shoulders bowed as if carrying theweight of his choices.
"Roxanne, wait!" Charlottecalled out, hurrying after her sister. The automatic doors of the local storeslid open, releasing her onto the cobbled streets of Chesham Cove.
"Rox! Please, slow down,"Charlotte pleaded, catching up as Roxanne's pace faltered near the edge of thepavement. "Where are you going?"
"To the pub," Roxanne spatout without turning, the words sharp enough to slice through the salty air."I need a drink. Or ten."
"Can't we talk first? Clear theair?" Charlotte's request floated between them.
"There's nothing left to say,Char. He hasn't changed." With those final words, Roxanne marched offtoward the comforting dimness of the nearby pub.
Charlotte stood there, the echo of theconfrontation ringing in her ears. Her thoughts churned like the unseencurrents beneath the waves, a tumult of emotions that mirrored the stormy grayskies above. Had rain been in the forecast? She watched her sister's retreatingfigure until it blended with the other villagers, all unknowing of the dramathat had unfolded just moments ago.
Turning away from the pub's swingingsign, Charlotte began her solitary walk back to The Crown. She wanted to giveRoxanne some space. Her feet moved with mechanical indifference over thecobblestones that had charmed her upon arrival in Chesham Cove. Now, they feltuneven and unkind, a reflection of the turmoil within her.
She paused at a point where the streetafforded a view of the coastline, the sight of the Old Crown Inn emerging inthe distance, a silhouette against the darkening sky. It stood there, stoic andtimeless, and now a little gloomy—or maybe that was just Charlotte’s view.
It was then that she realized she hadleft all of her groceries at the store, forgotten on the aisle. No way was shegoing back now. Not when the place was filled with phantoms.
"Who knew ghosts could travelacross an ocean?" The question escaped her lips. She didn’t expect ananswer—but she yearned for one all the same.
She unearthed her phone and textedSimon. He was working, but she wanted him to know what was going on.
He answered almost immediately.
I’ll be right there.
CHAPTER TEN
Simon arrived fifteen minutes afterCharlotte's text—despite his warning earlier in the week that he would be busywith work and the proof she had seen in his absence. They hadn't even had thechance for a cozy breakfast like they'd planned.
