the pier. She laid on the brakes as she blew past the rickshaw rental stand, and just managed to skid to a stop next to her parents’ yacht.
“Lillian!” Her mother, Sandra, gasped when she saw the soldier’s bloody form slumped on the back of her bike.
Her father’s jaw dropped.
But by the time he found his voice to insist that Lily take the soldier right back to where she’d found him, Lillian had already dismounted from the bike. The rail of their yacht bobbed a little higher than the dock, but the bike sat higher still. Lily tipped the rickshaw, and the unconscious soldier keeled toward the cushioned bench that encircled the deck of the yacht.
“Lily, no!” Michael Bardici demanded, rushing forward to stop her, an instant too late.
With a hefty heave, the soldier tumbled gracelessly onto the cushion. Lily hopped onboard after him, rearranging his arms and legs to settle him flat on his back.
“Lily.” Her mother approached, wringing her hands. “Did you see what was going on up there? It’s like a war zone.”
“Mom, please. Can you push the rickshaw back up the pier? We have to get out of town.”
Her mother paused, surprise on her face, then obediently climbed onto the dock and took the bike back up to the rental stand.
Lifting the man’s eyelids to check his pupils for signs of concussion, Lillian listened with one ear to her father’s protests.
“What are you thinking bringing that man onboard? There’s been some sort of violent attack up there, and now you’re getting us mixed up in it. What will your uncle David say?”
Lily focused on her examination and didn’t respond. The man’s pupils were even, with no telltale red streaks that would have indicated his capillaries had burst. A good sign. Hopefully the alleyway had blocked much of the force of the blast, preventing a traumatic concussion. It boded well for the likelihood of minimal internal injuries.
Her father inserted his face in her line of sight. “I know you think you have to rescue every injured creature that crosses your path, but this is going too far. He’s a human being. You can’t take him out of his country—”
“He asked me to take him out of the country.”
“Oh, he did, did he?”
“Yes.” She checked the soldier’s pulse. Strong. “He specifically asked me to help him, to get him out of the country, and to hurry.”
“Did he say anything else?”
She looked her father full in the face. “Don’t let them find me.”
“Who’s he hiding from?” Michael Bardici sputtered. “Did he have something to do with those explosions? He could be a criminal!”
Before Lily could respond, her mother returned. “Let’s do hurry and get out of here,” Sandra Bardici requested. “There are soldiers with guns everywhere. Whatever those explosions were about, I don’t like it. What if they try to lock down the marina?”
Lily felt grateful her mother had so quickly sized up the situation. “She’s right, Dad. We should get moving. Do you need me to help you get under sail, or can I bandage his face?”
“You should do nothing of the sort,” her father protested. “Surely there’s somewhere in the city.” He looked at Sardis beyond the bay, black smoke rising above the limestone buildings, and his protest lost a little power.
“We should get out of the marina while we still can.” Sandra sounded almost frantic.
“Of course we should go.” Michael Bardici faced his wife. “But we can’t take this man with us! We don’t know anything about him. What if he’s dangerous?”
“He looks to be out cold right now. She’s brought him this far. It’s chaos up there—I suppose the local hospital will be overwhelmed. She’s a trained medical professional.”
“She just graduated from veterinary school.”
Sandra took a step closer to her husband and lowered her voice. “She wants to help. This is the first time she’s wanted to do anything medical since…”
Lily heard her mother’s sentence hang in the air, and knew exactly what words she hadn’t spoken. Since she’d failed to save the horses. The painful memory taunted her, but she pushed it away. Thinking about the tragedy in her past wasn’t going to help her now.
Michael Bardici huffed. “Fine. We’ll set sail. But I’ll warn you both—I intend to get rid of this fellow at the first opportunity.” He stomped over and untied the boat.
“Thank you, Dad.” Lily sprinted into the top-level pilothouse and pulled out the first-aid kit, which she had personally assembled in a small suitcase years before, and kept stocked for emergencies.
The unconscious soldier didn’t flinch as she cleaned the wound on his face. To her relief, the abrasions didn’t appear to be deep, though they stretched from his nose to his ear, covering much of his forehead, down to his chin. Still, if she bandaged his face quickly and kept the injuries clean, he’d likely heal with minimal scarring.
Once she had the blood cleaned off and a fresh white bandage wrapped around his head to hold the gauze and batting in place, she pulled out her otoscope and checked his ears, sighing with relief when she saw no sign of blood.
Excellent. Ears were particularly susceptible to primary-blast injuries. The fact that they’d sustained no damage reduced the likelihood that he’d been hit with enough concussive force to injure his lungs or his brain. She’d heard horror stories of those with blast-force injuries to the brain who’d lost their memories, and developed short tempers as well as ongoing headaches. Only time would tell the extent of the soldier’s injuries, but for the time being, Lillian’s hopes were buoyed by her discovery.
With her attention focused on the soldier, she hardly noticed the progress of their 52-foot vessel as they left the marina and reached the open sea.
“Did you want something to eat, Lily?” Her mother climbed up from the below-deck cabins and handed her a bottle of water.
Surprised, Lily realized the sun had already sunk low on the horizon. “No, thank you. Water’s fine.”
Her mother sat on the bench near the man’s feet. “Your father’s very upset.”
Lily gestured to the soldier as she placed her otoscope back in its case. “He asked me to help.”
“I know. And I’m glad you want to help again. But he’s not an injured animal. He’s a person.”
“Doesn’t that make him even more worthy of my help?”
Her mother sighed.
Lily changed the subject. “Can you help me try to get him out of his suit jacket? There’s blood on his shirt. I just want to make sure it came from his face. I don’t want to miss an injury.”
Her mother agreed, propping up the soldier’s torso while Lily tugged the suit jacket
