bleeding lips, rusted silver spoons: The Island
There’s a ledge, past the garden. If you continue down the grass eventually there’s a drop right into the ocean. The green just stops and only the brown dirt from centuries of erosion cover the side of the ledge.
It should be too precarious for Kiara to stand there, right at the edge, but she doesn’t care. She’s got an awful feeling that if she were to die, she would have a long time ago.
She stands there until it’s night and she can’t see in front of her.
