The night smelled of salt, damp leaves, and fear. Still felt like hot sexy red lingerie.
Wren staggered through the thick undergrowth, her breath uneven, her body bruised from days of fighting through traps and surving the waves.
The moon was dim almost non existence, thin, like a blade hung above the world, and every step she took felt like walking toward a destiny she was terrified of losing but clothes was tossed aside one after another.
She whispered Hazel's name so softly it almost wasn't sound but a chant.
And then..
A familiar voice trembled through the darkness. Serene and calm.
"If you ask me… I honestly don't know why you love me so much."
Wren froze.
It wasn't spoken aloud , just a soft whisper of a recording from three years ago.
It was a memory of Hazel's voice echoing in her mind, the last recording she had ever found.
The words had been her only companion through the years of searching, haunting her, keeping her alive.
