Roxy, on the other hand, sat on the edge of the giant shell bed, just sitting there as if life had been drained out of her again.
The last time she was like this was when her mother locked her in a room just because she disobeyed her.
For the first time since falling into this world, the fire in Roxy's belly had gone out. All her sass, her boldness, her grit, and the determination to build a kingdom, it all felt like one stupid ass dream she once had.
She felt stranded.
She looked down at her hands. They were pale and wrinkling from the humidity. There was dirt under her fingernails, dirt from the cave floor. Her hair, usually silky and smelling of lavender soap, was a tangled, salty mat that clung to her neck. She felt gross and small.
The sea wasn't built for her body.
Wasn't there like a place where she could wash, even inside the ocean?
But the physical grime was nothing compared to the pain in her chest.
