But Rae stood, with Luna at her side, over the top of a tombstone and pointed. “I don’t understand.”

Kellen walked over.

This tombstone looked newer than the others.

It was well tended. Recently tended.

The headstone read:

Hermione Jasper

Friend of the heart.

The date of her death was…three years ago.

Now, for a different reason altogether, Kellen looked around at the rippling grasses, the headstones, the fence, the oak and that absurdly fancy mausoleum.

“Is this Ruby’s Hermione?” Rae asked.

“I think… Yes. Before Harry Potter, it was not a common name in the US. Too hard to spell. Too hard to pronounce. How many Hermiones could have lived on this one little island?”

“Did she live here her whole life?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she came here to die. We don’t actually know what happened to Ruby, either.” Although Kellen was starting to have a few thoughts. “Isla Paraíso is so plain. A few trees, a lot of grasses, cliffs and beaches and ocean and rare birds. One massive house, and many mysteries. When we get back to civilization, I intend to look up Ruby Morgade and her whole life and her whole family.”

“Yes.” Rae, suddenly mature, folded her hands in front of her in an attitude of prayer. “I want to solve all the riddles. I need to know.” She stared at her mother. “We haven’t found Jamie, and I don’t know where else to look. I’m hungry and I’m tired. Let’s go home. Let’s read the rest of Ruby’s story.”

32

The attic was bright, then dim, as clouds raced across the sky. The wind rattled the old house, whistled through the cracks of the windows. The storm was making itself felt.

As if she were cold, Rae huddled into the window seat, the throw wrapped around her shoulders.

Luna, minus her socks and garters and tired from the day’s exertions, lay stretched out flat on her side beside Rae, asleep except for the occasional moments when she lifted her head to look around. Luna was uneasy.

Kellen, as tired as Luna, stretched out on the couch, and read aloud from Ruby’s diary.