The horizon was painted with soft hues of pink and orange as the sun began its slow ascent into the sky, casting a warm glow over the vast expanse of water. The gentle lap of the waves against the shore was the only sound that filled the air, and the morning felt oddly peaceful, though the reality of the situation was anything but. The boat, a small and unimpressive vessel, rocked lightly as it came to a halt, its journey complete. You sat there for a moment, feeling the subtle motion of the water beneath you, staring out at the unfamiliar shore. The salt air clung to your skin, a reminder of the long night spent drifting with no clear direction, no destination in mind—because you hadn’t been given one. You weren’t wanted, not anymore. Zyran had made that clear. He hadn’t cared enough to leave you with more than your bags. The thought crossed your mind briefly as you glanced at them, piled haphazardly at your feet. No food, no water—just your belongings, thrown together in a last-minute dismissal of what had once been your life. The island that now stood distant behind you, the private paradise where you’d once walked beside him, was no longer yours to claim. It was hers now. The new woman. Prettier, Zyran had said. That was all it took. You pushed yourself up, legs unsteady from the time spent at sea, and grabbed one of the bags. It was heavier than you remembered, the weight pressing down on your fingers like a reminder of everything you had lost.