Was he dead?
Mitchel pondered this calmly, but a sudden pain in his shoulder reassured him that he was indeed still alive.
He struggled to open his eyes and saw a face very close to his own.
It was a woman’s face.
Her eyes were bright and beautiful, clear and pure.
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She blinked at him, and for a moment, Ariana’s face flashed through Mitchel’s mind, snapping him back to reality.
“You’re finally awake. I thought you were gone for good.” The woman’s voice was clear and melodious, and her tone revealed her relief and joy.
Mitchel tried to sit up, wincing from the sharp pain in his shoulder.
He took a deep breath and leaned against a rock. The landscape around him was desolate, with no one else in sight.
Then, he focused on the woman before him. She, too, was drenched and covered with sand.
Mitchel’s voice was raspy as he asked, “Did you save me?”
Marlowe Bates looked at him and nodded. “Yes, you’re in a deserted part of the island. You’re lucky I was here. I came here to relax. It was quite the struggle to pull you from the sea. I scraped my hands and feet on the reef, but thankfully, you’re not dead.”
“Thank you.” Mitchel expressed his gratitude, though his voice was dry and hoarse, and he felt dizzy from the wounds on him. He could barely hold himself upright as he spoke to her.
Marlowe didn’t notice anything wrong with Mitchel, and the weather was windy by the sea. She huffed, crossed her arms, and gave him a skeptical look. “What’s the point of just saying thank you? Don’t you think I deserve some payment for helping you?”
Mitchel cleared his throat and replied, “I’m sorry. I lost my phone and wallet in the sea. I’ll transfer you some money as soon as I can contact someone.”
“Okay,” Marlowe said. She dusted the sand off her hands and got up.
“I did my best to pull you out of the water. I need to get home for dinner now. You seem alright anyway. You’ll have to figure your own way out from here.”
With that, she turned and walked away.
Mitchel’s voice was so raspy that he couldn’t call out loudly; he just sat there, watching her go.
On her way home, Marlowe realized she was soaked from the rescue, and her hands and feet were scraped by the coral.
Arriving home, she opened the door and called out, “Grandpa!”
In the room, an old man was busy fixing a broken clock by the table, his back to her. At the sound of her voice, he turned, put on his glasses, and looked at her. His face lit up with a smile. “Hey, have you been playing in the mud again, Marlowe?”
“No,” Marlowe responded. She removed her wet shoes and dried her wet hair with a towel hanging near the door. “Actually, I accidentally fell into the sea,” she explained.
She didn’t want her grandfather to worry, so she chose not to tell him about the stranger she had saved.