“Okay,” Thomas said, sprinting toward the trail.
I knelt beside Luca, the waves rising and falling around us. I used saltwater to rinse the vomit from his face. I hoped the coldness of the water was not causing him pain.
He groaned.
“Thank you!” I uttered to the heavens when he moved his head.
He opened his eyes and groaned again. I realized the sun was too bright for him. I used my hand to make a shadow on his face.
“You can open your eyes now,” I said softly.
He opened them. “Siena?”
“Yes, it’s me. You’re at the beach. You passed out,” I said.
He sat up. “Passed out?” He turned his head slowly from side to side.
“You weren’t feeling well. You said you had a headache. Then you vomited and fell to the ground.”
He turned, focusing on the inn. “Your boyfriend was going into the inn, and I was trying to stop him.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, but yes, you were trying to stop him.”
“Did he go in?” Luca asked with concern.
“No,” I said. “He went to the trail to try and get help.”
Luca took a breath, then pushed himself into a sitting position and slowly stood up.
“Are you okay to stand?” I asked, my arms held out in case he fell.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Nothing a shower won’t fix.”
His voice showed his exhaustion. We were both drenched, with sand falling in wet clumps from the clothes clinging to our bodies.
“Can I get your net and pole?” I asked.
He turned toward the beach where he’d left them, by the smooth ocean log. The tide would not reach them there.
“I’ll get them later,” he said as he slowly trudged away from the water.
I kept my arms extended, afraid he might fall forward or backward at any given moment. With every step his balance improved. After many slow, deliberate steps, we reached the spot where Thomas and I were having a picnic a few minutes before. How strange it seemed, when I realized that.
“Have some lemonade,” I said. “The sugar will help you.” I gave him the glass I’d been drinking from and poured some more lemonade.
“Thank you,” he said, taking it from me. His hands were shaking as he lifted it to his lips.
“Do you think you can make it up the trail?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, and handed me the empty cup.
I quickly packed the picnic items. I didn’t want Thomas to have any excuse for coming back down to the beach. His fascination with the inn was too much to deal with today.
I kept one hand on Luca and the other carried the picnic basket and blanket.
“Does that happen often?” I asked, wondering if Luca had a medical condition.
“No,” he said, his voice still weak.
Even so, it seemed there was more he wanted to say, but didn’t.
After a few minutes, Sam and Thomas appeared on the trail, sprinting toward us.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked, running to us and placing her hands tenderly on Luca’s arms.
“I need a shower and maybe some lunch,” Luca said, placing an arm around his aunt.
“What happened? Siena, are you okay?” she said, wrapping her arm around Luca and noticing I was also soaked.
I answered, “I’m fine. I went in the water with Luca, hoping it would help him.”
“You two are soaked,” Lisieux said as she emerged in front of us.
“Oh good, he’s not dead,” Avi said, coming from behind Lisieux. “Gigi, he’s not dead!” Avi yelled up the trail to Gigi, who was moving as quickly as she could.
“How wonderful, though I never thought he was,” Gigi said as she came into sight.
“What happened?” Avi asked, touching my dripping clothes.
“Yes,” Sam said, “what did happen?”
“We were walking along,” Thomas said. “Luca came behind us and then vomited and passed out.”
“He had a headache first,” I added, unsure of what details mattered.
Luca said, “It came on really quick.”
“Where were you?” Sam asked.
“On the beach,” Thomas said, “near the inn.”
“The inn?” Sam said with curiosity.
“I felt fine when I was fishing,” Luca said, his voice sounding tired.
“It definitely came on fast,” I said, “because if he’d been feeling that bad, he never could have caught up with us.”
“It’s a blessing he wasn’t in the water when he passed out,” Thomas said, “or he could have drowned.”
“I hadn’t thought of that!” I exclaimed. I looked at Thomas and saw the concern in his eyes.
“It was probably low blood sugar,” Sam said, practically pulling Luca away from me in her attempt to separate him from us. “I told him to eat lunch before he left, but he didn’t. I’ll get him home and feed him, and he’ll be fine.”
Luca stumbled forward; he was still weak. He leaned on Sam as they walked slowly in front of us.
“You were near the inn,” Gigi said, though it was clear it was more of a question than a statement.
“Yes, ma’am,” Thomas said. “I’ve always been interested in old buildings.”
“I see,” she said.
“Actually, Luca was trying to stop him from going into it,” I said, my conscience becoming too loud to brush aside.
In front of me, I noticed Sam squeeze Luca’s arm.
“What about you, Siena, were you going with Thomas into the inn?”
Gigi’s tone was unmistakable. She was trying to keep her voice calm, but this was the tone that sent us scurrying for our rooms to avoid the impending wrath. My sisters both scooted forward to walk with Sam and Luca, as if it were some sort of random choice they were both making, instead of what they were actually doing—fleeing from Gigi.
“No,” I said timidly.
“Then you were watching as he entered?” she said, her tone no less acidic.
“N-no, I was trying to stop him,” I said, wishing I had something else to say. I didn’t want to betray Thomas.
“Thomas,” Gigi said, “why did you attempt to go into a place on our property where my granddaughter told you not to go?”
“I, ah … I guess curiosity got the better of me,” he said, not understanding how threatening her tone was.
“Do you not remember what curiosity did to the cat?” she said, glaring up at him.
How he didn’t crumble or burst into tears, I didn’t understand. Her stares were far more frightening than Medusa’s could’ve ever been.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cameron. I was going to be careful and not enter the building if it looked dangerous,” Thomas responded.
“Looks can be deceiving, Thomas. So very deceiving,” Gigi said, and if words could kill, Thomas would have fallen down dead where he stood.
No one dared speak after that. When we came to the split in the trail, Sam and Luca said goodbye as the rest of us continued on.
At the kitchen door, Gigi said, “Goodbye, Thomas. Siena is going into the house now. Tell your parents, hello. Siena, in the house.”
She held the door open for me. A part of me thought I should argue with her. I was seventeen; I had the right to say goodbye to a boy and take my time doing it, but I didn’t argue. I was soaking wet and wanted nothing more than to take a shower.