Kaeleigh sighed as she looked out over the island again. Nothing but the stony beach and the grey waves gently lapping against them. It’s not that it wasn’t pretty, in it’s own solemn way, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be.

There was a rapping at her door. She climbed up off the window seat to open it.

“Lunch is ready, if you’re hungry.” Pierce’s hair was getting long, flopping over in his eyes.

“I guess I could eat.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I should. I would probably forget if you didn’t remind me. And it would be ungrateful of me to not, considering you have go through the effort of cooking.”

They sat down at the table, and Pierce put a bowl full of spaghetti in front of her. She picked up her fork and started to go through the repetitive motions of putting the food on the fork, and then transferring it into her mouth.

At any other point in her life, she would have teased him for being in the kitchen, and then complimented him on his cooking. But not right now, not when depression lay upon her shoulders. Everything she knew and everyone that she had cared for, left behind. All because the four races couldn’t be trusted.

At least she had stopped crying. The sorrow was almost bearable when she wasn’t crying.