Outer Banks. A hundred miles of open shoreline.
Of ivory sand and water so clear rocks jeweled from beneath.
They moved slow, through small towns and tourist traps. Charlotte wore a wide-brimmed hat and stood in the sand watching the white fins of distant sailboats beyond the crescent of barrier islands.
Through bustling marinas.
Pirate Cove.
Safe Harbor.
Names that conjured the kind of ending Saint prayed for. For Charlotte. For herself.
They lost days looking out, their hope rising and falling with the waves. And it was as the islands thinned along with the tourists that they came to the final harbor.
When the heat eased and the sun began to drop, they watched the first fishing boats begin their return.
Charlotte stood, her feet in the water as she kept her eyes fixed on each vessel, hands by her side. Saint stayed back, counting off the boats, her breath shallow as another appeared filled only with locals.
She felt the soar of the girl’s heart, and then the break as the boats began to thin.
A sunset fired colors that splintered over the water.
Charlotte turned once, and Saint closed her eyes to the girl’s tears.
She was about to stand, to tell her sorry, that she had felt so certain, when she saw it.
The sailboat was white, maybe fifty feet long, and it sliced the water so gracefully. The deck a teak bleached by the sun. Light met the hull, rubbed down and painted fresh. Saint looked to Charlotte, who watched it, for a moment still, like she expected another vacationer.
And then they followed the mast.
Saint smiled when she saw it.
The flag was small. Black.
The skull and crossbones lit beneath the burnt sky.
She sat back on a rock, felt the stir in her muscles, in her heart as Charlotte stood still as the boat eased to stop at the small berth at the end of a long jetty.
He stood on the hull, the moment frozen as he saw her.
Patch jumped from the boat. His walk turned to a run as Charlotte began to move toward him.
They met at the water’s edge, Patch’s smile taking Saint back to a time she had worried lost forever.
Two steps from each other, the girl held back.
And then he opened his arms.
And Charlotte stepped into them.