𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝. To my beloved black sea, It was full dark when I snuck out of the castle to meet you. You wore those ripped black jeans and your new friend’s boots, with sleet from the forest still in the grooves. You moved awkwardly in your new clothes because you were still creating yourself, like one of your drawings. We drank vanilla cola from glass bottles and listened to a song about how fast the night changes over and over. Two adults frolicking as youths, French kissing in secret to hide from winter and distract ourselves from the town crumbling around us. The way we touched each other was equally punishing and artful, painting a world where we could be together on each other’s skin. For a while, we pretended. For a while, I was the kind of woman you could be loyal to and fight for, and you weren’t the lost, forbidden Heathen. Now, it’s been days since I’ve seen you. I’ve decided long ago, and this is my last letter. Everything I’ve worked so hard for—before you came along—will carry on as if our time together never happened. Don’t bother stopping me. As I once said, the tremor between us will only lead to carnage. But as I plunge a knife into the chest of the man I once desired to marry, I’ll think of all those foolish nights when we pretended, our time on Bone Island, vanilla cola, our stupid song, and you. Yes, my beloved black sea. I’ll think of you. xx, a Bone Island can be read as a stand-alone or within the interconnected series. For a better reading experience, read books in the order they are published.