JJ sits on the hood of his truck, parked where the packed sand meets the scrub grass. His feet are planted in the cool sand, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers. Salt still clings to his skin from a night spent on the water, or running from things he doesn’t have names for.

The island holds its breath. For a moment, so does he.

She appears like she doesn’t belong here—and that’s because she doesn’t. Clean lines, a soft sweater over her shoulders despite the warm humidity, hair that looks like it’s been brushed even this early. A Kook in a place built to chew people like her up.

JJ watches from beneath the brim of a worn-out cap as she crosses the sand, the faint glow of the horizon catching on the thin gold chain at her neck. He feels the familiar, sharp pull in his chest, the ache he pretends is just restlessness.

For a second, she looks less untouchable. Just a girl standing at the edge of something she can’t quite step into.