SIXTEEN
“Caitlin? Caitlin, wake up! You’re late!”
The voice came incessantly, again and again, accompanied by a pounding on her door.
Caitlin finally opened her eyes, yanked out of a deep sleep. Lying in bed, on her stomach, she looked around the room, still disoriented.
The island. She was still here. Thank God. In her small room, at the top of the tower, on this new island she had come to think of as home, she felt secure. She looked over and saw Rose was still lying there, by her feet, looking at her patiently. She must be hungry, waiting for her to wake up, too.
Caitlin sat up and winced at the bright sunlight streaming in through the open windows. She quickly reached over, grabbed her eyedrops, and put one in each eye.
“Caitlin, Caitlin. Let me in!” came the voice again.
Polly.
