The boat bumped against the wooden dock with a soft thud. I stepped off first. My sneakers hit the planks and the salt air rushed into my lungs right away. No city noise. No engines. No people talking over each other. Just waves and the creak of the boat behind us.
Julian followed with both bags. The path up to the house was narrow and sandy. Palm trees leaned in on both sides. The house itself sat open and modern, all glass and light wood. No staff waited at the door. No one took our bags or offered drinks. The quiet felt thick, like it had weight.
We walked inside. The main room opened straight to the ocean. A long couch faced the water. The kitchen looked unused. Julian set the bags down near the stairs and turned to me.
“You wanted isolation,” he said. “This is it.”
I dropped m
