paper. But her eyes-those soft, stor

ung to your skin. But for Arthur Tom, everything had shifted in the si

s ago, she

ke the tide had swallowed her whole. The townspeople had moved on. But Arthur hadn't. Couldn't. He searched e

turned to silence, so

d once loved. That Arthur had drowned in whiskey, bar fights, an

a man chasing ghosts. And sudde

otsteps first.

voice:

afraid he was imagining it again. He'd seen her before-in drea

is was

before him, the wo

who never

er voice trembling like the wind in

sts in his coat pockets, knuckles white with res

id at last, voice hoarse

mean to

you

her bag like it might anchor her. "I'm not

bitter. "Time? I lost

flin

ued, voice low. "Bars. Roads. Wome

parted, but n

g for a why," Arthur said.

in," she whisp

ry

ldn't be

under the weight of everything unsaid. "

inked the tears away. "I came

he'd struck him. The air

y show u

lhouette swallowed

aid, without turning.

was go

, Arthur didn

at the churning sea. The waves whispe

ouldn't get away

el the truth-even if