SERAPHINA’S POV
The house was already awake when Corin and I came back in, salt clinging to my skin, damp curls escaping my braid, and bare feet tracking sand across the floor.
I was bone-tired, muscles aching in a way that promised consequences later, yet my mind sparkled, startlingly clear, as if someone had switched on a light within me.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows in pale golden sheets, catching dust motes and transforming them into tiny, swirling confetti.
The scent of breakfast—warm bread, citrus, rich coffee—wrapped around me as I crossed the threshold, grounding in a way that made the night feel suddenly unreal.
Corin and I hadn’t spoken much on the walk back. Not because there was nothing to say, but because we’d both spent everything we had.
Words
