P.S. To arwenevenstar and anyone who cares, I will detail what I think the character's ages are:
Elizabeth/Will: 22
Annamaria: 25
Marcella/Jack: 41
Weatherby: early 60s
Victoria: 38
"Land ho!" Annamaria cried to no one and happily watched the strip of land grow bigger. It would still be a good two hours before she could dock and find Victoria. But she could remember some more. She leaned back and tried to think back to any instances where Antonio Rafael had crossed her.
She had not seen Victoria in any other time besides the fleeting glimpse at seventeen. But she had seen Rafael's other women.
When she was lying on the beach, on her sixteenth birthday, she felt alone. Her parents had grown distant and were fighting constantly. Annamaria loved to escape and just watch the waves.
She was feeling drowsy. She heard several pairs of feet scuff up next to her. "Quick, sit down," a low voice said.
Annamaria opened her eyes. Several pale girls had sat down next to her and were speedily dressing in layers and layers of clothes. They put on hats.
Annamaria cleared her throat, and all five girls looked over at her. They were sweating. "Um, you look kinda hot."
They did not reply. Annamaria tried again. "You hiding or somethin'?"
No response. But one of the girls looked down and took off her hat.
"Mr. Rafael is gonna kill us," she said. "We shouldn't be doing this. Having fun. . . ha!"
"Who's Mr. Rafael?" Annamaria asked. The only Rafael she knew was that scary man who saved her life.
"My- our husband," the girl said, sliding her gaze to the other "wives." They nodded. "Why is he so bad?" Annamaria persisted.
Another girl, with dark brown hair and ivory skin suddenly broke down in tears. The other women looked at her and rolled their eyes.
"He beats and starves us and controls our lives," the brunette sobbed.
"Only when we fall out of line," the tallest one snapped. She smoothed her clothes.
"Would going to the beach be considered falling outta line?" Annamaria asked.
They looked at each other. "He'll tell us." Then the wives of Antonio Rafael got up and waddled to the water, leaving the weeping one behind.
Annamaria stared at her. She wanted to help but how? She did not know about Rafael's evil side except for the vague comments Marcella made. To her, he was simply a frightening-looking man who happened to save her life from a crazed scarf vendor. Three years later, she did not even know what happened to that scarf.
The girl stopped after awhile. She lay down and faced Annamaria. "Help me," she whispered. Annamaria furrowed her brow. "By doing what?"
The girl laughed hollowly. "Anything."
"It sounds like you should sail away," Annamaria suggested. she looked off at the dock where some boats were bobbing in the light wind.
"Sail away?" the girl echoed. She smiled weakly. "Where, ya dreamer?"
"Call me Anna," Annamaria said.
The girl replied, "I'm Sandy.
"Sandy? That's a pretty name," Annamaria said. "You should sail anywhere ya like.
But Sandy had her mind on her name. "It's only ma nickname. Real one's Caroline."
"Well, then, come on, Caroline-called-Sandy." Annamaria reached for Sandy's hand and pulled her up. She started running, taking Sandy with her.
"What? What? Where are you taking me?!" Sandy cried.
But Annamaria just kept running until they were underneath the docks. She shoved Sandy behind her and looked round. The coast was literally clear.
"Here," said Annamaria and showed her a boat. It would fit at least one person and Sandy got the message. But she shook her head.
"This is your boat- and I've just met you. I can't take it. I'll just go back to my house." She turned to go.
Annamaria watched her leave. She wanted to cry out, "Stop!" but could not. She felt. . . helpless.