STRANGER IN AN ENDLESS JOURNEY

Chapter 17

“Yes, she was.”

People will pay money to see my face. You’ll never be as pretty as me, and that’s why people don’t love you.

She tried to wipe the memory from her mind. “No one will take pictures of you here. People are friendly.”

That much was true. She, Luna and Sophie had spent plenty of happy evenings laughing and drinking in the Shipwreck Inn, and Sophie was well-known and loved on the island. Too well

She tried to remember whether her friend had ever mentioned a Oscer Nunez.

She was certain she hadn’t met him before.

His wasn’t a face that was easy to forget.

That face was in her head as she pulled open cupboards, looking through tins and dried pasta that Sophie left as emergency food. She found cereal, tipped it into the bowl along with the milk she’d bought and settled the child at the table. “We’ll finish unpacking and then explore the island.” Unpacking wasn’t going to take long. Should she be depressed that everything she valued from her old life had fit into two small suitcases? A few clothes and her precious first editions. “We can have lunch by the harbor. You can pick anything you like from the menu. It will be fun.”

“Can I bring my bear?”

Stella looked at the battered bear and decided its chances of surviving the trip were slim. There was a rip in its neck, and it had lost an eye. “Why don’t we leave him here? We don’t want to lose him.” Or parts of him.

“I want him to come.”

Concerned that half the bear might fall into the harbor, Stella was tempted to argue, but she was more afraid of doing something that might destabilize an already fragile situation. “We’ll take the bear.”

“Can I wear my fairy wings?”

Because fairy wings weren’t conspicuous at all. She closed her eyes and told herself that no one would be looking for the child of a Hollywood actress on an island off the coast of Georgia . And if Luna was right, then Patricia wouldn’t be the only six-year-old wearing fairy wings. “If that’

s what you want.” She stiffened as the child slid off her chair and walked across to her.

A small hand slid into hers. “Will they find us?”

The feel of that hand made the pressure in her chest worsen. “No.” She croaked out the word. “We’re safe here.”

Or at least, she hoped they were.

Picking up her phone, she found Sophie’s name in her contacts and sent a text.

Who is Oscer Nunez?

BECAUSE IT WAS still early in the summer, she managed to park near the harbor. The busy working waterfront was a popular spot for tourists keen to experience all Kiribati Island had to offer. Lobster boats, the lifeblood of the local community, bobbed alongside yachts, and fishermen rubbed shoulders with locals, tourists and sailing enthusiasts. The ferry that connected the island to the mainland ran three times a day when weather permitted. James Larry, the harbormaster, had been in charge of the service for as long as anyone could remember, terrifying everyone with his white shock of hair and heavy eyebrows.

From a distance, Stella recognized Micheal Charles, who had been lobstering the waters around Kiribati sland for three decades. She remembered standing with her friends, watching as he’d brought in the catch of the day, standing a safe distance from the deep waters of the harbor while Sophie and Evelyn had bought fish straight from the boat. They’d cooked it fresh and eaten it in the garden with butter dripping down chins and eager fingers.

“Can I see the boats?” Curious, Patricia wandered toward the edge of the harbor, and Stella grabbed her shoulder and hauled her back.

Her heart was thudding and her palms were clammy. Why had she parked by the harbor? She should have found a side street and stayed as far from the water as possible.

James Larry walked across to them, a frown turning his eyebrows into a single shaggy line. “Careful. The water is deep here.”

While Stella waited for her heart to slow down, she kept a grip on Patricia. Sophie had once confessed the harbormaster had terrified her as a child, and Stella and Luna had laughed, both unable to imagine Sophie being terrified of anything.

Patricia didn’t seem to share that fear. She looked from him to the ferry that was just leaving the harbor. “Is that the same ferry we came on last night?”

“It’s the same. The Captain Jeff.”

“Like in Paul Sam?”

James Larry studied the child. “It’s named for Arnold Jeff who donated the money for a ferry service fifty years ago. Is this your first visit to Kiribati Island?”