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He frowns. “Lucius doesn’t count for much company, Orca.”
“No, not Lucius. There’s someone else here.”
“What?”
I loop my arm through Papa’s and start up the bank. “It’s ever such a long story. But in short, I found some things washed up on the beach, and as it turns out, they belonged to a pilot who crashed his plane off the coast of the island. Nobody had found him, so I searched the island—first the beaches and then the forest—but I didn’t find him. But then he showed up at the lighthouse, and he was badly hurt, so I helped him, and he’s so nice, Papa, you’ll love him—”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down a minute.” Papa stops in his tracks, looking shocked and bewildered.
“It’s all right, Papa. He’s a very nice man. His name is Adam Stevenson, and his brother is flying out to pick him up this morning. You should come and meet him before he leaves.”
I can see a thousand questions spinning through Papa’s mind. As we approach the lighthouse, Adam steps out the front door, squinting in the sunlight.
“Papa, this is Adam Stevenson. Adam, this is my father.”
“Lawrence,” Papa says, shaking his hand firmly.
“Good to meet you, sir,” Adam greets him. “I know you weren’t expecting to find a stranger here, in your home.”
“No,” Papa says, “I certainly was not.”
I frown, detecting a hint of hostility in his voice. I’m about to remind him that Adam was seriously injured from his accident and that he needed help—but Adam speaks for himself.
“The truth is, sir, I owe your daughter my life. She took me in without a second thought. She helped me when I was unable to help myself.” Adam’s gaze slides to me for a second. My heart squeezes. “I’m very grateful to her. And to you, of course.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re safe, son,” Papa says with some reluctance. “It’s your good fortune Orca stayed behind after all; otherwise, nobody would have been here to help you.”
That’s a good point, I decide, upon reflection. My not going with Papa to the Otherworld has worked out for the best in this case.
“You have a remarkable daughter, sir,” Adam adds. “You should be very proud of her.”
This appears to cause Papa more trepidation than reassurance. His polite smile falters, and the light changes in his eyes. But he says only, “I am. I am proud of her.” He puts an arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “Orca said your brother is coming to pick you up.”
“Yes. He should be here any time now.” Adam’s bright blue eyes scan the clear sky. I hope my memories of him will remain as vivid as the image of him before me now.
“Come inside, Papa. We made coffee. Did you have a fair crossing? The sea is so calm today. I think it’s finally resting after making a fuss all week.” I laugh, dancing up the steps, through the kitchen and over to the stove, where the percolator sits on the back burner to stay warm.
“Orca.”
I twirl around to discover that Adam has not followed us inside. Through the window, I glimpse him standing on the ledge overlooking the sea. Papa lays his messenger bag on the table and repeats my name, his voice low and serious.
“What is it, Papa? You look so worried.”
“I need to know what happened… while I was gone.”
“I told you. Adam told you.”
Papa shakes his head. “I don’t mean how he came to be here. I mean…” He rubs his forehead with his weathered fingertips. “What I’m trying to say is… did anything happen between you?”
“Between us? What do you mean?”
Papa looks at me, anxiety haunting his gray eyes. He searches for words the way Adam searched for the English translation to describe his Latin phrases to me—something I would know and understand. It takes Papa a long moment to find the right words.
“Did he touch you?”
My heart stutters as I remember our kiss at the top of the lighthouse last night. Adam’s hands against my waist and on my cheek, his fingers gently combing through my hair, his lips on my lips—
It was beautiful. Indescribably beautiful. But the look on Papa’s face suggests otherwise. Is “touching” something bad? Reproachable, even? The last thing I want is for Papa to disapprove of me. If he thinks me irresponsible for any reason, I may lose his trust—and with it, any hope of seeing the Otherworld.
