Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
“No, I want to make sure we can get right off.” We've parked at the front, ensuring we'll be among the first vehicles to disembark. I lean forward when I see a small plane coming down over us. We’re not far from the island, and I know it must be landing there. Willamina's father is the only person who regularly used the small airport. It was his preferred method of transportation. That man would never use the ferry. It would be beneath him, but it’s not now.
“Wonder who that is.” My mom speaks the question in my own mind.
"You think it’s family?"
"I don't know of any other family members." I don’t either. There has never been talk of any, but I know her grandparents on her father's side have passed. They didn't know anything about their mother, and she was never brought up.
"Who else could it be?" There are a handful of rich people on the island, but a private plane is more for the wealthy. My mom shrugs.
"Do you think this changes things for us? I mean, what now?" That thought just dawned on me. Willamina and her twin brother Rich turned eighteen last month, so they are adults, but we are heading into our senior year of high school.
“Honestly, sweetheart, I’m not really sure what will happen from here.” I’m getting ahead of myself. Right now I need to focus on supporting my two friends. Everything else will work itself out. That’s my hope anyway.
Thankfully, the ferry finally docks, and we drive off. The Haven estate sits at almost the highest point of the island, towering over everything else. Still, the drive up the hill doesn’t take long, and in no time, we’re pulling through the gate.
My mom barely stops the car at the front of the house, and I’m already out the door. I can’t wait another second. She’ll pull around back and park next to the guesthouse where we have lived since coming to Lighthouse Landing a few years ago.
I let myself in through the unlocked front door. I always do. My mom and I can come and go from the main house as we please. It is, after all, Mom's job to keep up the estate. She manages the property for the most part.
“Willa!” I shout, darting up the stairs.
“Down here,” she calls back. I spin around, going back down the stairs and toward the kitchen.
“Hey,” I say when I see her.
“Hey.” Willa gives me a tight smile. She is a bit more reserved than I am.
“You haven’t called or texted.” I make my way over to her.
“I don’t really know what to say or how to feel.” I’m not surprised by this. I mean, I wish she would have reached out to me, but it’s really not out of character for her. She holds a lot of emotions in, which is why I’ve been worried about her.
“That’s okay.” I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug. “You can feel any which way you want.” I feel her nod against me. She’s in a tough spot for sure.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” This isn’t really our home, but I suppose for the time being it is.
“You’re back.” Willa lets go of her hug at the sound of her brother's voice.
“I’m back.” I smile at him and reach over to give him a hug.
He and Willa might be twins, but you’d never know it. Willa is a tiny thing compared to her brother Rich. Even when I first met Rich years ago, he towered over everyone else. Despite being the new girl at school, I'm confident that he's the reason I never faced bullying. Both of them welcomed me with open arms, which made my transition smooth.
Rich squeezes me back. He’s not big on showing emotion, but I’m sure this hurts for him even if he couldn't stand his father. They stayed clear of each other when Karl was in town.
The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts me comforting Rich. "The door was open," the deepest voice I’ve ever heard states. Rich pushes me behind him, then grabs Willa by the elbow and pulls her back too.
“Who the fuck are you?” Rich barks, going into protective mode. I peek my head around him to see a man in black slacks and a buttoned-up black shirt. He has rolled up his sleeves and undone a few buttons at the top of his shirt.
“He kind of looks like you.” Willa gives voice to my next thought. Neither Rich nor Willa resembled their father much besides Willa having a small build like he had and the same color eyes. It pretty much ended there.
“Do you always leave the front door unlocked?” The man approaches, taking a step closer.
The dark hair, eyes, and broad, tall build match Rich to a T. Except now I see a scar that cuts through his brow and down part of his cheek. Tattoos cover his forearms, a contrast to the expensive watch on his wrist.