Natalie paused near a reflective pond, her body swaying in rhythm with a melody the water offered her. Susan had stopped altogether, lying in a sun-drenched field, arms stretched, soaking in every heartbeat of the land.
Lucy… Lucy was in a grove that pulsed like a womb, golden leaves falling around her in slow, sacred spirals. Grace's emotions fluttered across Jude's consciousness like a hundred butterflies - curious, eager, reverent. Sophie burned in a way that sent tingles down his spine - resisting still, questioning, but undeniably drawn forward.
Rose.
He felt her most clearly.
Her journey was not linear. She wove her way in spirals, backtracking, touching places Jude hadn't noticed yet, awakening old stones and singing softly into the earth. Her thread wasn't just golden. It was deep - rooted in something older than the island itself.
He took a step.
The moss responded, glowing beneath him.