Page 40 of The Price of Protection

Rose turned to look at his face but saw only his lips, uncovered beneath his rain hood. “I got pregnant in September of 2000,” she said. “I dropped out of school.”

Rhett’s eyes were shadowed. “I think someone told me you dropped out. I remember thinking that couldn’t be right.”

“It happened.” Rose’s stomach twisted.

“I should have been here,” Rhett said. “I should have supported you.”

“No,” Rose said firmly, her hand in a fist. Nobody else’s life should have been ruined.

When they reached her place, it was dark and alien-looking. She shoved the key in the lock and turned the doorknob, beckoning Rhett in. He rubbed his palms together and took in the space: a cozy living room and kitchen, an upstairs with two bedrooms.

“You should stay here tonight,” Rose told him. “I don’t want you on that boat.”

Rhett protested. “I’ve stayed in it during worse storms. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s stupid, and you know it,” Rose said. Before he could protest again, she showed him where she kept the wine, the tea, and the coffee, then hustled upstairs to make up her daughter’s bed with fresh sheets. She imagined that Rhett hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in a while. She wondered what his money situation was, if he was staying on the boat for the adventure of it all or because he had to. She decided she didn’t care. Nathaniel Hawkins had money in spades. Money was a necessity, something you needed to get by. But she didn’t care if Rhett didn’t have buckets of it. He was worth more than that.

When Rose returned to the kitchen, she found two mugs on the table. Rhett’s rain jacket was drying on the rack in the hall, and the radio crackled with an old Dolly Parton song. Rose’s heart swelled. Only recently had the world lost her.

Rose sat across from her first love and sipped her tea. Her thoughts turned to Maxine, to how she might explain her other daughter’s existence. But then again, was her first daughter even still on the island?

“Did she tell you her name?” Rose asked, realizing she hadn’t asked yet. It felt bizarre that her daughter had a name, since someone else had given it to her.

Rhett snapped his fingers and retrieved his phone. “She followed me on social media,” he said. After a brief search through his followers, he turned his phone around to show the profile of a woman named Willow Cay. In the small icon was a face that might have been Rose’s. The bio read: Music Therapist, Boston-based. Rose closed her eyes tightly.

And then, her own phone rang.

Rose jumped to her feet, searching for her cell in her coat pocket before discovering it near the shoe rack. It was Eleanor Pike.

“Rose, we’ve been up all night, waiting for you,” Eleanor said. She sounded like a schoolteacher.

Rose’s throat felt tight. Returning to the kitchen to bask in the warmth from the stove and Rhett’s eyes, she said, “I know she’s here, Eleanor. I know my daughter’s here.”

Eleanor was quiet for a moment.

“Is that why you wanted me to come by?” Rose demanded.

“We shouldn’t talk about it over the phone,” Eleanor said.

Rose was done with this song and dance. She no longer cared about Nathaniel, the Legacy Club, or any of the rules her mother had agreed to back in 2001.

“I want to see her,” Rose stammered.

“She wants to see you, too,” Eleanor said.

Rose collapsed in the chair across from Rhett. “Is that why she’s here?”

“Yes. Someone told her where she was from. Although that was never allowed; it was meant to be closed off. We tried to tell her to leave, but she’s resistant.”

“You told her to leave?” Rose demanded, aghast. It was like someone ripping her baby out of her arms all over again.

Eleanor was quiet. “We thought that was what you wanted.”

“It isn’t,” Rose whispered. “And I’d rather you ask me first, from here on out, before you make decisions that have anything to do with me.”

She hated how much her voice shook. She closed her eyes and felt the world spin. She half-expected Eleanor to hang up on her for disrespecting both her and the Legacy Club, but she held on.

“We’ve arranged for a meeting,” Eleanor said. “Tomorrow evening in Sconset. Can you make it?”