“Hey, Huck,” Mick says. “Just thought you should know that Maia and her friends are hanging out on the edge of Frank Bay. I…was taking a little walk, and I saw them down there. It’s pretty late, so I thought—”

“Yes, thank you,” Huck says. “I’m on my way.”

Huck drives to the Beach Bar, double-parks, and strides out onto the sand. He doesn’t see Maia. He heads to the left, spies a couple of kids—it’s pretty far away from the Beach Bar, Huck wonders what Mick was doing all the way down here—and whistles. Even in the dark, he can see Maia jump to her feet. She comes running through the sand toward him.

“Uh-oh,” she says.

“Uh-oh is right,” he says. “Follow me. We’re going home.” Over Maia’s head, Huck calls out, “Party’s over, kids. I’m calling everyone’s parents.”

Maia sits in the truck while Huck leans against it. He really wants a cigarette right now, but he can’t set that kind of poor example until every child is claimed. This gives Huck a chance to calm down and second-guess himself. Did he overreact? No; it’s nearly nine o’clock on a school night and they were having a kumbaya sit-in on a deserted section of beach. God only knows what they were doing.

“What were you doing?” Huck asks Maia once he gets behind the wheel. “Other than trying to send me to an early grave.”

“Talking,” Maia says. “And I know I was wrong and I know I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I also know it’s not going to make any difference and that I’m grounded. But we had a crisis.”

“Crisis?”

“Colton’s parents are getting a divorce,” Maia says. “He needed us.”

Huck sighs and lets the rest of his anger go. One of the things he likes best about St. John is exactly what Maia is describing: in times of trouble, people come together. That was true when LeeAnn died and even more true when Rosie died. Why should it be any less true for Maia and Colton just because they’re kids?

“You should have called me,” Huck says.

“My phone was dead.”

“Not everyone’s phone was dead,” Huck says.

“I didn’t want to call,” Maia says, “because I thought you’d make me come home. We all made a vow we wouldn’t tell our parents where we were until we knew Colton was going to be all right.”

“Colton is going to be just fine,” Huck says. He nearly points out that Maia just endured something far worse and she’s okay, but Huck doesn’t want to bring up Rosie right now, even though he misses her very, very much at this moment. Rosie would have been far more understanding than Huck about this little powwow. Rosie might have invited all the kids to pile into her car and then taken them all home herself, encouraging them to share their feelings as she drove. “He has two parents who love him.”

“Facts,” Maia says. “Unfortunately, while we were on the beach, I discovered another problem.”

“Oh, really.”

“I saw Mick,” Maia says. “He walked all the way down from the Beach Bar.”

Huck nearly says, Yes, he was the one who called me—but he doesn’t want to reveal his sources.

“And he was with Brigid. Brigid was crying hysterically. Mick had his arms around her trying to comfort her—this was before he noticed me sitting with my friends…”

“Yeah?” Huck says.

“And then they started kissing!” Maia says. Her voice is shaky. “I’m so disgusted with him. He pulled away after a minute, but not soon enough. As soon as I get home and charge my phone, I’m calling Ayers.”

For Pete’s sake, Huck thinks. Does the drama never end?

“They’re adults, Nut,” he says. “I think maybe you should let them work it out.”

“He’ll never tell her,” Maia says. “Ayers will never know if I don’t say something.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Huck says. He lights a cigarette and takes a long, much-needed drag. “Maybe he and Brigid needed closure.”

“Closure?” Maia says, and she laughs like a full-grown woman. “Spare me.”

When they get back to Jacob’s Ladder, Huck says, “Grounded for a week. No town for two weeks.”

Maia nods.

“You lied to Cash,” Huck says. “You told him I had a late charter. So then I turned around and ripped him a new one for believing you. Now your own brother can’t trust you.”

“I’m sorry,” Maia says.

“Your mother hid a lot of things from me,” Huck says. He hadn’t wanted to bring up Rosie, but here she is, showing up anyway. “Probably because she didn’t think I could handle the truth.” Huck clears the lump in his throat. “I’ve learned my lesson. You promise to tell me the truth, whatever it is, and I promise to handle it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she says.

“Go inside, please. There’s Candi’s on the table with extra comeback sauce. Then straight to bed.”

“Where are you going?” Maia asks.

“I have some apologizing to do myself,” Huck says.

He drives to the villa even though it’s late and Irene might be in bed. Both Jeeps are in the driveway, which Huck supposes is a good thing. He needs to apologize to Cash; he shudders when he thinks how hard he was on the poor guy.

But it was Maia. When Cash has a child of his own, he’ll understand.

Huck trudges up the stairs and sees a light on in the kitchen. Cash is sitting at the kitchen table with his phone in front of him.

Huck knocks on the sliding door and Cash jumps, then hurries to let Huck in. “Did you find her?”

“I did,” Huck says. “She’s safe.” He can see the relief wash over Cash’s face and Huck feels ashamed. He’s so afraid of losing Maia, even of sharing her, that he’s ignoring the best part about her newfound family: there are more people who care about her. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Cash says. “I’ve been beating myself up since I dropped her off, wondering how I could have been so gullible—”

“You trusted her,” Huck says. “That’s a good thing. I had no right to speak to you the way I did, and I hope you can forgive me.”

“My mom gave me your cell number,” Cash says. “If you ever let me hang out with Maia again, I promise I’ll follow the rules and drop her only at home.”

“She’s grounded for a week,” Huck says. “But I’m sure she’ll be bugging you as soon as she’s a free woman.”

“I hope so,” Cash says. He offers Huck his hand. “Thanks for coming all the way up here to apologize, that was above and beyond. But I have an early morning tomorrow…”

“Right,” Huck says. He turns toward the door, then stops. “Is your mom still awake, do you think?”

“Probably,” Cash says. “She just headed upstairs a minute ago. Do you want me to check?”

Huck hesitates. He could just wait and talk to Irene on the boat tomorrow.

“I’ll get her,” Cash says. “I’m sure she wants to know about Maia.”