Tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “I will stay,” she whispered.

  The stone flared brighter, the hum rising into harmony around her. Warmth surged through her chest, steady and certain.

  She was not trapped.

  She was entrusted.

  When Lina emerged, the tide was returning, sliding over stone as if nothing had changed.

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  But everything had.

  The climb up the cliff felt different—less like scaling a barrier, more like returning home.

  Stars shimmered above, patient and distant.

  The next morning, Old Bram stepped into the post office.

  “You went,” he said gently.

  “Yes.”

  “And now?”

  Lina met his gaze. “Now I understand.”

  Bram’s eyes softened. “Then it chose well.”