Page 47

Amelia woke with a start, her mind foggy from the restless sleep that had barely afforded her any relief. Her body also ached from her impromptu night swim. She felt terrible in mind, body, and spirit.

Rising from her bed, she rubbed her eyes, her thoughts disjointed. She dressed quickly and headed to the living room. She hesitated in the doorway, her heart thumping as she readied herself to see Tara.

But she wasn’t how Amelia expected to find her. She was slumped in one of the old armchairs, her body folded awkwardly against the worn cushions. She looked fragile in the pale light—her usually sharp features softened in sleep, her sleek hair in a wild tangle. Her head rested on her arm, the other draped over a notebook and pen. Loose pages surrounded her feet, scribbled over with quick, slanted handwriting.

Carefully, she picked up one of the sheets that had drifted to the floor. The heading caught her attention immediately: Sustainability of Solhaven: Lessons for the Mainland.

She gasped, her eyes darting over the words. It was the application Tara had promised to write.

Gathering the pages into their numbered order, she began to read. The words were thorough and deeply considered, outlining not only the practicalities of Solhaven’s sustainable practices but also the immense value those practices could provide to the mainland. Tara’s words detailed the island’s innovative use of natural resources, its near-total independence from modern infrastructure, and the unique seaweed farming techniques that could be adopted on the mainland.

More than the data, however, Tara had captured something intangible yet undeniable: the soul of Solhaven. She had written about the people, their unshakeable sense of community, and the way their survival was built on mutual care and cooperation. It was all there, tied together with a compelling argument for Solhaven as a model for a sustainable future—a resource, Tara said, that no government with an eye on its public image or the planet's wellbeing could afford to dismiss.

Amelia’s fingers trembled as she turned the pages, her disbelief giving way to awe. Tara hadn’t just made the case for Solhaven; she had made it undeniable. No one reading this would question the island’s value or the necessity of its continued existence.

But more than that, the lines were alive with an understanding Amelia hadn’t expected from Tara. She had seen the island for what it was.

Amelia felt a sting behind her eyes and quickly wiped them, looking at Tara, fast asleep. After everything, after almost dying last night, she had given what little energy she had left to this. To saving Solhaven. To saving Amelia.

Tara stirred, a faint groan escaping her lips. Amelia froze as Tara blinked herself awake, groggy and disoriented. Her eyes darted around before landing on Amelia.

‘Morning,’ Tara said hoarsely, nervously.

Amelia couldn’t help the faint smile on her lips. ‘Morning.’

Tara glanced at the papers Amelia held. Her posture stiffened, panic flickering across her face. ‘You were reading it,’ she said, her tone almost defensive.

‘I was,’ Amelia admitted.

Tara straightened in the chair, brushing her hair from her face. ‘I wasn’t going to show you yet. It’s a first draft—’

‘It’s good,’ Amelia said, cutting through Tara’s self-doubt. ‘You’ve… done what I couldn’t. It’s from a mainlander’s eyes and it says things I could have never said about this place. It says… well. Everything.’

Tara stared at her, the words seemingly catching her off guard. Her expression softened, and she let out a shaky breath. ‘I’ll need to type it up and take it to Geraldine when I get back. There’s still—’

‘It’s enough,’ Amelia interrupted, her tone resolute. ‘It’s all I could have hoped for. Thank you, Tara.’

For a moment, silence settled between them, heavy with meaning. Then Amelia broke it, gesturing toward the window, where the first rays of daylight illuminated the room. ‘I should get moving soon. People will be at the shack, packing up the seaweed for the boat. I’m supposed to be with them.’

Tara blinked, still shaken, but her voice was steady as she asked, ‘Can I help?’

‘If you want to,’ Amelia said.

‘I do,’ Tara replied simply.

‘Well, I’ll go on ahead. You join us when you’re ready. You know the way, don’t you?’

Tara nodded. ‘I do, indeed,’ she said with a small smile.

Amelia headed for the door and walked out into the sunshine.

But she stopped there, finding herself turning to look into the window. She could see Tara standing up and stretching out her night in the chair. Amelia stared at her, watching the lips she had kissed. The face she’d held. The eyes she’d been intoxicated by. She was simply the most beautiful person in the whole wide world. Amelia didn’t care if she had barely seen any of it. If she’d seen a million faces, there couldn’t be a better one.

She wished…

But Tara had it right. It was only a fantasy.

Tara would be gone in a few short hours, and that was for the best. Amelia was sure of it.

But as she turned and headed toward the shack, she felt her heart cracking open, spilling a quiet ache she knew she would carry with her long after the boat left the shore.