Chapter 26 A Future Untold #2
Her beautiful reef tank was gone, the vacant spot where it had once shimmered now a hollow void that echoed her loss.
The ship’s wheel, the salvaged wooden beams, and mahogany paneling she’d painstakingly restored, all vanished, as though her life’s work had been swallowed by the sea.
Only her shelves of books remained, along with a few antique relics she’d collected from forgotten shores.
Her collection of shells caught the glow of the setting sun.
She smiled faintly, until she remembered the pristine ones she’d gathered on that beach on ?le Du Crane.
And with that, came Caleb.
Plopping on her bed, she buried her face in her hands, doing her best to fight back tears that now spilled down her cheeks.
She missed him…the way that errant strand of black hair drifted across his cheek, how he scrubbed his stubbled jaw when deep in thought.
His voice—rich, steady, like a deep ocean current—still reverberated in her heart.
Those storm-blue eyes that could turn tender or thunderous in a breath.
His commanding presence, his fierce protection of her, his honor and decency.
She loved him. And she’d never gotten a chance to tell him.
All that time, she’d fought to return home, never realizing it meant losing him forever.
“Get it together, Desi.” She scrubbed her eyes, forcing air into her lungs. “No use sitting here bawling like a lovesick fool.”
But her words fell flat in the empty room.
Her gaze drifted to the laptop on her desk. Logic—cold, modern—was the only lifeline she had left. She flipped it open. First things first. If Ethan Turner existed, she’d find him. She had to.
An hour later, her hope was dashed. No Ethan Turner. No record. No birth certificates, no obituaries, not even a digital ghost.
“Crud!” She slammed the laptop shut, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet room. “What did I do?”
Only the screech of a gull outside answered her, and the faint lap of waves against the pilings. The last orange ray of sunset fled from her window. Wind whistled through the dock’s rigging, like the sea itself was laughing at her despair. I’m so sorry, Ethan.
Her grandfather’s sea chest sat at the foot of her bed. Inside awaited the journal. The one with a single entry. The one she didn’t understand.
Something deep inside her stirred, a pull that defied reason.
She opened the chest and lifted out the weathered book, its leather cool beneath her trembling fingers. Turning on her lamp, she perched on the bed. The page with her grandfather’s scrawled message fluttered loose. She set it aside and turned to the first page.
Same single paragraph. Same familiar ink.
Disappointment pressed at her chest. She almost closed it, but a quiet whisper inside urged her to turn one more page.
She froze.
Words. Whole paragraphs, written in a hand she didn’t recognize.
Heart racing, she could hardly believe what she was reading.
I landed in the middle of a sea battle, guns thundering, ship quivering beneath the blows. The air smelled of gun smoke, tar, salt and fear. Sailors dashed across the deck, sails snapped, commands bellowed.
And there he was, strong, commanding, fearless. He surrounded me like a shield.
A gasp tore at her throat. Her thoughts tangled in a knot. This was exactly what happened when she’d returned to the Sentinel.
She turned the pages, her hands shaking. Scene after scene unfolded before her eyes like a living memory—the island of ?le Du Crane…the dance at the Montverre estate…Caleb’s tragic story… the kiss on the beach… the rescue, the fever, Alden’s prayer.
Every moment she’d lived, captured here in perfect, impossible detail.
Finally, she came to one last entry.
There are days I fear for my sanity. I have seen things which would defy all logic. A Ring with power beyond comprehension, an army of rats, swarms of vicious birds, a town under a curse, and a cat with one eye.
And through it all, a man…a hero out of time…with the honor of a knight, the strength of a warrior, and the virtue of a saint.
Where we go from here, only destiny can say.
She sat motionless, pulse roaring in her ears.
Who wrote this? Who could possibly know such things, unless they’d been there?
But no one had been there. No one but her.
And she hadn’t written a word.
A chill brushed her arms.
“Pops,” she whispered, “what is this book?” Her voice trembled. “Some kind of trick? Magic? A curse?”
His words echoed through memory. It holds secrets, my little urchin. Cling to them. Search for them. Never give up.
Her throat tightened. Slowly, she placed the journal back in the chest and slammed the lid.
But she had to give up. She had to. The past was gone. Caleb was gone. And she couldn’t risk changing any more lives. Or losing what little remained of her own.
Ethan never existed. Silvia was dead. Her business was failing.
Nothing was right with the world.
The throbbing ache in her heart for Caleb was more than she could bear. How could she go on living when she felt like an empty shell without him? She had known real love. And now it was gone. Or was it? Was the Ring still at the wreck? Was it possible she could return to him? So many unknowns.
Collapsing onto her bed, Desi buried her face in the pillow as sobs broke loose, fierce and unrestrained. They came from a place deeper than sorrow—years of pain, loneliness, and loss clawing their way out until there was nothing left but exhaustion.
Finally, she fell still.
Only the whisper of the sea kept vigil as she drifted into a dreamless sleep.