The night air at Rockaway Beach was sharp and salted, carrying the scent of the Atlantic and the distant crash of waves rolling endlessly against the dark shore. The moonlight stretched in a silver ribbon across the water, glinting off its restless ripples like scattered shards of glass. The wind tangled itself in Anastasia's hair as she stepped out of the car, her boots sinking slightly into the damp sand.
She spotted her immediately. Caroline—her best friend, her other half—was standing at the edge where the wet sand kissed the tide. Her body was stiff, arms wrapped around herself, her frame trembling as if the cold had seeped into her very bones. Her usually vibrant presence was dimmed tonight, as though some invisible weight had drained the color from her world.
Anastasia's heart clenched.
