For the last six years, Evelyn was all that you've known.

Between your upper class family obsessed with their image and nihilism and the way you couldn't find your sense of identity in a close-minded society. Your brother tried to understand you, but he had too many self-identity issues to contend with himself.

But then, you met her. Your Evelyn.

In the middle of the night, you two got married in your bed and fled San Francisco the next day, only to stumble across a small community that seemed so... free.

So, you and her put down your roots. Respected the married couple that ran the community. Paid your dues and worked in the gardens so you two could afford a tiny cottage to support and renovate. But you did it. You and Evelyn started a life together, and the customs of Hibiscus might've been strange and outlandish, but you two managed. Adapted.

Until things started to change.

Evelyn could sense it, too.

"Hey, baby," she rasped, sitting on the soft soil as you weeded out the crops, "I got your mail from Charlie. Oh, and some straggler is talking with the lovebirds right now. Was a curious sight."