They said I was lucky to be there. They had no idea how right they were. The resort map didn’t show it. None of the polished staff mentioned it when they handed me the welcome drink or pointed toward the pool. But there it was—past the last bend in the trail, tucked behind banana trees and bougainvillea, nestled against the cliffs like it had grown there. Cabana Number Nine. No door. No guests. Just a linen curtain moving...