I blow out a hard breath and try to think. Can’t use our phones. No landline. Lighthouse locked up. Lighthouse keeper nowhere to be found. Narwhal too far out to swim to.

Lucky’s thinking the same. I can see it in his long face. “Bound to be another boat that comes by here when the storm passes. Barring that, my parents will notice when we don’t show up for Sunday dinner. They know we’re on the boat.

“They’ll notify the Harbormaster,” he assures me. “My dad knows the harbor like the back of his hand. He’ll find us. And the Narwhal can’t float away that far. I think?” He shakes his head as if he’s not sure but trying to convince himself. “People around here aren’t going to steal a boat.”

“We pretty much did! What if your parents decide to press charges against us?”

He rolls his eyes. “They aren’t going to press charges.”

“Sorry, I’m just … freaking out.”

“Someone will find it floating at sea. It’s registered to us, and everyone knows my family. They’ll return it.”

I try not to let him know how panicked I feel as we enter the dock house. “You’re right. It’s going to be fine. The Narwhal will be fine, you’ll get it back, and our parents can’t be too mad about lightning. That wasn’t our fault.”

“Lots of things aren’t my fault, but it’s funny how I’m always stumbling my way into them,” he says, miserable. “Maybe you’re not the one who’s cursed. Maybe it’s me.”

“Hey,” I say after a quiet moment. “I’d rather be cursed with you than with anyone else right now. In case you care.”

He looks up from the floor and gives me a weary smile. “I care.”

“We’ll get through this. We’re outlaws, remember? A couple of desperados.”

Lucky snorts. “Oh, that’s us, all right. Hardened criminals.”

“I can’t even drink milk past the expiration date,” I admit.

“I take the blame for crimes that aren’t even my fault.”

I whimper and check my phone again, just to be sure there isn’t a signal. There’s really not. Technology: great until it’s useless. I pocket my phone and try not to cry.

“Josie?” he says in a low, unguarded voice.

“Yes?”

“Whatever happens, I regret nothing.”

I reach for his face and gently run my hand over his scars, pushing back his hair. Awash in emotion. “Whatever happens, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Chapter 20

DANGER FROM ROUGH SEAS DURING STRONG WINDS: Broken sign posted on a South Harbor public pier near Nick’s Boatyard. (Personal photo/Josephine Saint-Martin)

Chapter 20