“Hello,” he said. Nothing.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a nurse shaking her head. Her beehive hairdo trembled slightly as she shot him a sad look, like she knew he was wasting his time. Irritated with the look, he persisted, shifting his weight slightly so he was directly in the woman’s line of sight.
“Hello there,” he tried again, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.
Her eyes focused then, blinking several times as she took him in. He knew that look of dawning recognition. He’d seen it many times before. He was not, however, prepared for the smile that slowly lit up her features, like a candle melting in reverse. Every inch of her face lifted, brightened, like she was coming back from the dead.
Just then, the music started playing again. Tommy James’ voice warbled over the record, “Crimson and Clover” filling the room and igniting his body with a staggering sense of weight as the strange woman feebly squeezed his hand in response.
“There you are,” she said softly.
He smiled at her but didn’t know how to respond to that. “Would you like to dance?”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice surprisingly steady.
As he helped her stand, he noticed how fragile her body was, as if she rarely moved on her own. He easily supported her weight as they moved to the edge of the dance floor and began to slowly sway to the music.
She kept her eyes on him as they danced. They darted around his face like she was learning his features. While he would normally feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny, he found himself surprisingly at ease, even when she leaned into his chest and inhaled deeply. A small sigh escaped the shriveled old woman, and she rested her cheek against him as they continued to sway.
Just as the song was ending, she pulled away to look at him again, the slow shuffle of her feet stopping abruptly.
She was a stark contrast from the huddled, withdrawn old woman he approached only minutes before. She stood up straight, her eyes clear and bright as they roved over him once more.
Her eyes met his with an intensity and longing that shocked him, and as her body softened, her hand brushing along his shoulder in a familiar way, he was filled with a sudden warmth. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
And then she retreated within herself, her eyes clouding over and losing focus, her shoulders hunching slightly, her feet becoming unsteady.
As he braced her against him to prevent her from falling, he resisted the urge to shake her. A baffling desperation overcame him. He wanted her to come back. He couldn’t explain why, but he needed her to come back.
A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his spiral. It was the nurse from before. She moved her arm around the woman’s waist to support her, then smiled up at him, her eyes full of tears.
“I’ve never seen her so alert,” she said gently. “You’ve given her a gift today. I’ll take it from here.”
He stood there, his arms limp at his sides, and watched helplessly as she took his soulmate away.
11
“Her husband?”
Yarrow sighed again, moving to sit beside Theo, who was peeling his empty gun vest from his body. They lowered themselves painstakingly to the ground and gave Zander a hard look.
“Who is Ace to you?” they asked.
Zander looked between Theo and Yarrow in disbelief, his jaw hanging open.
“What the fuck do you mean who is Ace to me?” It was a ludicrous question, like asking his left foot who his right foot was to it. “What is going on, Yarrow?”
Yarrow’s expression didn’t waver. “Ace trusted us, and only us, with what I’m about to tell you. My gut says she would have told you eventually, and she would likely want you to know now. But I need to be sure you’re going to stick around after I tell you. If not, I’d much rather drop you off at the nearest port and do this ourselves.”
Zander recoiled at the idea, an unfamiliar rage kindling in his belly at the thought of being left behind—of leaving Ace behind.
“You want to know who Ace is to me?” he asked. “She’s the only thing that’s ever felt real in my life. She’s my heart, my lungs, the sun on my face. I’d pluck my eyes from my head and give them to her if she asked. I’d cut the beating heart from my own mother if she needed it. She's my soulmate. Now please, Yarrow, tell me what’s happening.” His voice felt ragged, breaking under the threat of furious tears.
Yarrow’s face softened, and they took Zander’s hands in theirs, giving them a squeeze.
“I suspected as much,” they said softly. “But I needed to know for sure.”
Yarrow looked at Theo, who was leaning against a damaged railing, one arm resting casually on his raised knee. He looked comically like himself—charming, relaxed, poised—a tender smile on his face at Zander’s confession. His posture lay in stark contrast to the blood, gunpowder, and saltwater coating his skin and clothes. If Zander wasn’t overwhelmed by heartbreak, he might have laughed.
Theo saw Yarrow’s look and nodded.
“Let’s do this indoors,” he said, standing up with a groan. “There’s too much… there’s too much out here.”
The three of them went into the surgery to talk. With the door shut, they could almost pretend everything was normal. But evidence of carnage still lay all around them. Bottles and baskets littered the floor, their contents running together in a mix of greenery, glass, and shining liquid. Yarrow set to preserving what they could of the precious ingredients while Theo settled in to tell his story.
“We met Ace nine years ago,” Theo began. Zander nodded, remembering. “Her parents owned a small vineyard near Antequera. Rumor had it, they purchased the land from its previous owners for more than it was worth. Word spread, and soon they were rubbing elbows with the richest families in Southern Spain, who all thought they had some vast, mysterious fortune. It was a rumor they allowed to spread. It was smart; it gave them an instant stream of customers.
“Eventually, the rumor reached us. We were docked in Malaga when we heard about the rich couple who’d apparently made a fortune on the high seas. Someone told us they were ruthless pirates. Another insisted they’d plundered gold from the Americas and delivered it to the King, who let them keep a generous share. What interested us was the rumor they were looking for tobacco from Virginia—the same place they used to source their own back in the day, we later found out.”
“We ran with a small crew of traders back then,” Yarrow explained. “Two of them were Virginians, brothers whose parents settled there from England. We’d come to Spain with crates full of tobacco, among other things, hoping to sell.”
“We figured it was our lucky day, and we paid the mysterious pirate couple a visit. That’s when we met Ace.” Theo smiled fondly at the memory as he spoke. “She was 17 years old, and every bit the woman she is today. She acted as her parents’ manager, handling most of the finances and negotiating deals with suppliers and customers.” Theo chuckled, wincing in pain as he did. “Her parents tried and tried to get her to stop, insisting she focus her energy elsewhere. But she was so good at it, and so hardheaded, they finally gave up and let her do what she wanted.
“For three years we dealt with Ace, going back and forth from Virginia to Spain buying and selling tobacco. We’d dock at Malaga, send word to the Vidals, and travel to their estate when we heard back. Chandace and Nicolas would always insist we stay a few days as guests. They were like that. But as time went on, Ace started meeting us at the coast more often. She’d spend days at a time with us, lounging around with our crew, taking her time going home. Truth was, she wanted an excuse to be near the sea. In that time, we became very close.”
Yarrow took Theo’s hand and squeezed, their eyes downcast. Zander knew “close” was an understatement. Theo and Yarrow were connected to Ace in a way he didn’t fully understand—not just friends, and not quite parents, but they shared a love as deep as any other.
“It was then we learned the truth about the Vidals,” Theo said with a sigh. “Behind all the rumors of buried treasure and storehouses full of gold—rumors Chandace and Nicolas joked about at dinner parties and coyly refused to address outright—the three of them were nothing but an ordinary, loving family. A cunning family, yes, and quite successful both as seafaring merchants and landowning traders. But truly, simple. Parents determined to give their daughter what they never had, and blind to the fact that she didn’t want it.
