Authors: Rima Jean
Tags: #Fantasy, #Historical, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Young Adult
The Noble Pirates (41 page)
Sophie read, “O-B-I. Right? Is that one word?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Just try typing it in as one word first.”
When that yielded no (reasonable) results, I said, “I’m pretty sure it’s in
Igbo
, an African language. Do you think you could narrow the search?”
Sophie sighed. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Which language did you say it was?” She tapped away for a few seconds, and then said with a victorious smile, “
O bi
means ‘he lives’ in
Igbo
. Man, I rock the Web.”
My vision blurred, my heartbeat boomed in my ears.
He lives. Liberi.
Sophie’s smile disappeared. “Are you okay?” She shifted in her seat. “Do I need to call a nurse?”
“No,” I said. “He lives. Oh my God, he lives.” I covered my face with my hands, willing myself not to cry. After a moment, I looked up at Sophie and tried to smile. “I’m OK, really.”
Sophie watched me quietly, then asked, “Mom, what’s going on?”
Mom. Powerful emotions bubbled within me as I reached for her hand and grasped it tightly within mine. “Sophie,” I whispered. “Can you keep a secret?”
Chapter Forty-Two
The day I left the hospital, there were no reporters, no camera crews waiting. My return to the civilized world, to the twenty-first century, went unnoticed. Noakes’ visit was foiled by Sophie’s presence, much to my delight. Still, his eyes conveyed the warnings, the promise to return. He would not let me be, of that I was certain.
And there was Sophie. My story had jarred her, disturbed her. I feared she thought I was crazy, but something in the way she gripped my hand as she helped me into the car reassured me. She wouldn’t write me off as insane, thank God. Her desire to rebuild our relationship filled me with relief, with love.
When I closed my eyes, I still felt the rocking of a ship beneath me, tasted the salt on my lips. I still heard the creaking, the flapping of sails in the wind. When I drifted off into sleep, I still saw those blue eyes, that warm, mischievous smile.
He lives. Liberi.
I would not let him go, not yet.
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