GRETA:
"An island?" I ask as soon as we step onto the tarmac. It sprawls over us, a great expanse of land over the area and a large body of water and rocks on the other side of the coast.
Klaus has his arm around my waist as he leads us towards the car waiting at the other side of the tarmac. "Yes. An island."
"Don't tell me you own it."
"I'm sorry but I do." He speaks, his voice laced with amusement. "And why do you look like you're on another planet?"
"Because it feels like it!" I exclaim in surprise. "Look at everything. The land, the water, the island. It's all yours. You're rich and it's scary."
"I don't think that's the scary thing about me. Whatever it is, I don't think it's as scary as you being rich enough to own an island."
"Not one. Six."
"Six." I mutter. I am rattled a
