Dawn broke slow and pale, the first light bleeding across the sea, softening the shadows that had clung so tightly to the world through the night. The wind carried the scent of salt and stone, crisp and sharp, filling Jude's lungs as he rose from where he'd been sitting, sleepless, beside the dying fire. The horizon glowed with hints of gold and pink, but the beauty of it felt fragile, as if it could be shattered by a single wrong step.
Around him, the others stirred. Sophie was the first to rise, rubbing the chill from her arms, her hair wild from the night air. She moved to him without hesitation, her hand sliding into his, her touch grounding him the way it always did. Her eyes searched his face, seeing the exhaustion there, the worry he could no longer hide.
"We'll find her," she said, her voice low and sure. "We'll find her and we'll bring her back."