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Every so often, he glances back at me, grinning like he’s conquered the ocean itself. He’s completely in his element, the excitement of the day still buzzing through him. I can’t help but smile a little as I watch him, content, carefree.
It’s been a good day. At least, for him.
I glance back toward the house, my eyes instinctively landing on the second-floor balcony that leads to Annie’s room. The curtains are drawn, the glass doors shut. She’s been up there since we got back from town earlier.
Something’s off.
She’d seemed fine when we were walking through the market, joking around, sampling fruit, weaving through thestreets with Robbie between us. She’d been fine when we got ice cream, when she excused herself to go to the restroom.
And then something changed.
She hadn’t said much on the boat ride back, but when I asked, she blamed the heat, the long day. I didn’t push. But when we got back to the house, she disappeared into her room, and I haven’t seen her since.
I want to believe she’s just tired. That maybe it was too much sun or too much walking around. But there’s a nagging feeling in my gut, the kind that doesn’t go away until I have answers.
Was she just feeling sick from whatever bug she had yesterday? Some sort of lingering jet lag?
Or is it from the night we spent together? Is she feeling down again, ashamed of what we did? I was sure when I left her in bed that morning that she was feeling fine, but maybe it had come on sometime during the day.
And if that’s the case, why didn’t she come to me?
I don’t like not knowing what’s going on in my own house, and it’s about time I find out.
“Dad! Did you see that?” Robbie’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
I turn my head just in time to see him throw himself into a wave, arms flailing before he lands with a splash. He resurfaces with a grin, wiping his wet hair from hisface.
“I saw,” I call back. “That was quite the wipeout.”
He laughs, shaking the water off like a dog before running back up the shore.
“I’m gonna make a sandcastle now,” he declares, plopping down onto the damp sand and immediately digging his hands into it.
I nod, glancing back at the house again.
The sun is lower now, and dinner will be ready soon. I want to talk to Annie before then.
“Actually, Robbie,” I say, pushing myself up from where I’d been sitting in the sand. “It’s almost dinner time. Why don’t you go up and get ready?”
“But, Dad,” he whines and pouts. “What about my sandcastle?”
“You can finish it tomorrow,” I tell him, brushing some of the sand off my hands as I stand. “Go rinse off and change before dinner.”
Robbie groans but gets up, shaking the sand off his arms. “Fine,” he grumbles, dragging his feet toward the house.
I watch him go, making sure he heads inside before turning my attention back upstairs. Annie’s curtains are still drawn, the balcony door still shut.
I roll my shoulders, exhaling as I head towardthe house.
This isn’t like her.
Annie doesn’t hide. She doesn’t sulk or shut herself away, not without a reason.
And I need to find out what that reason is.
I step inside, the cool air of the villa hitting me and cooling my heated skin. The smell of grilled fish and roasted vegetables drifts from the kitchen, where the staff moves efficiently, setting up dinner.
Before I make it to the stairs, though, Maritza materializes in front of me.