They drifted into a narrow inlet where the water glowed softly beneath them, lighting the hull from below like a cradle of stars. The boat kissed the shore and stilled.
They stepped out, barefoot onto golden sand.
The moment Jude's foot touched the beach, the island reacted.
The earth beneath him pulsed.
Flowers burst open in a line leading away from the water. The trees ahead swayed, not from wind but from awareness.
The island was alive. Awake.
And it knew them.
Sophie touched her fingers to a low-hanging vine. "It feels younger here."
"Not young," Emma said. "Just newborn."
Natalie spun in a slow circle. "It's listening. Waiting."
"For what?" Lucy asked.
"For what we'll ask of it," Rose said.
Jude felt the weight of that - like every step he took left a mark, not just in the sand but in something deeper.
He followed the line of flowers. The others followed him.