I thought the silence would help. That maybe, if I sat long enough by the open window, the sound of the sea would rinse the chaos out of me. But quiet never lasts long when you live with ghosts — the kind that breathe through memory instead of air.

Narvia’s burial had been yesterday. A small, muted thing behind the pack house. The dirt still smelled raw. Kristen said it was better to keep it simple — that honoring her didn’t mean pretending she hadn’t done terrible things. Still, ...