Epilogue
Eve
The waves crash against the jagged rocks below, their rhythm steady, almost comforting. I sit on the edge of the weathered pier, my legs dangling above the dark water, the smell of salt and seaweed thick in the air. The horizon stretches endlessly, painted in shades of green and blue. Green. The color of life. The color of hope. My favorite color.
But hope feels far away tonight.
I wrap my arms around myself, the chill of the ocean breeze cutting through the thin fabric of my hoodie. The voices from the foster house still echo in my ears—shouting, slamming doors, and that sharp, grating laughter I’ve come to dread. I couldn’t stay there any longer, not another second. I told myself I’d leave once the stars came out. And now here I am, running with nothing but a small backpack, a few dollars, and a name.
Bella.
My sister. The one I barely remember. The one they took from me ten years ago. I close my eyes, trying to summon the blurry fragments of her face—a smile, a laugh, the feeling of her hand in mine. But it’s all slipping away, like trying to hold onto sand. All I know is that I have to find her. She’s out there somewhere, and if I don’t look for her, who will?
The pier creaks beneath me as I get to my feet. The town’s lights flicker in the distance, a faint glow against the darkness. I glance back once, the house I left hidden beyond the dunes. For the first time in years, I feel a glimmer of freedom. And fear. What if I never find her? What if I fail?
No. I can’t think like that. I’ve made it this far, and I’ll keep going. Bella is my sister. My family. And I’ll cross the world if I have to, just to see her again.
