Page 74 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

It didn’t say the island belonged to him, only that he had been a permanent resident. I lifted my head and looked at her as she searched through her own father’s clothes without even knowing it.

Beneath the document were letters mentioning the painting my mother had painted, along with the map. Underneath them lay a complete copy of the map itself. I picked up one of the letters dated 1988, the year he first arrived here. My eyes traveled over the faded words as I read.

“Dear Victor,

It’s my ultimate pleasure to have you on board for this research, and I couldn’t find a better cartographer to restore a map we discovered. As per our agreed contract, all details regarding the island and the map must remain secret. Once the treasure is found, ten percent will be yours, as agreed. Please keep me updated if you find something.

Best regards,

Sarah Sinclair”

I placed the letter back on the table and turned towards Gabriella.

“Was your father’s name Victor?”

She turned slowly, her tangled hair slipping over her shoulder before falling behind her back.

“Yes. Why?”

“You should see this,” I said, stepping back as she hurried towards the table.

In an instant, she was beside me. Her palm landed on the table, sliding across the papers as her eyes raced over every line.Tears welled in her eyes as each new piece of information sank in.

She turned to me. “So my father didn’t just leave. He left me for some treasure hunt, just like my brother.”

Her voice cracked.

“Come here.” I caught the front of her shirt and gently pulled her into my arms.

Her tears soaked through my shirt, while her hands trembled against my chest.

She had carried so much pain for so long, yet she still found ways to take care of everyone else. Her brother. Her mother. They didn’t deserve someone like her.

“We don’t choose our parents,” I said. “When my mum died, it was easier to blame you than to blame her.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I blamed my mother. Now I know he didn’t even leave because of her…”

“It doesn’t matter.” I eased her back just enough to look into her eyes. “It still hurts.”

“I got used to it,” she said, clutching my shirt.

I parted my lips. Seeing her this vulnerable stirred something inside me. Something unfamiliar, something I still couldn’t name.

A sound came in from outside.

It was faint at first. Then came the scrape of a boat’s hull grinding against the rocks.

“Can you hear that?” I asked.

I cupped her cheeks, brushing a strand of hair away from her face where it had stuck to the tear tracks.

“Stay here,” I said quietly. “Don’t come out until I know it’s clear.”

Leaning down, I rested my forehead against the top of her head.

“Understood?”

Before I could stop myself, my lips brushed the crown of her head.