Chapter 110 Shipwrecked & Spread Ch3

• They find the waterfall on the fourth day — maybe fifth. She’s stopped counting. The sun has eaten the edge of her sanity, the salt crusting her skin has turned soft spots raw. She hates the way the sand clings to every slick part of her, hates the constant grind of it in places she can’t scrub clean.
• She’s the one who hears it first — the low hush of water not crashing but falling. She follows it inland, weaving through broken palms and tangled roots until she stumbles into the clearing. A stone pool, fed by a narrow rush of clear water that spills from a jagged crack overhead. Green vines cling to the walls like secrets.
• She stands at the edge, barefoot in the mud, the sun cutting through the canopy overhead in hot white stripes. She doesn’t hear him at first. Doesn’t care. She tugs at what’s left of her torn blouse, the cotton stiff with salt and sweat, and peels it over her head. The skirt goes next — hanging limp around her ankles before she kicks it free.