She gave me a curious look, her tone cautious but still friendly. “Hey, can we talk?”

For a moment, I wondered if she was upset about how I’d brushed her off earlier. I straightened up on the bed, trying to sound neutral. “What can I do for you, Casandra?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, as if checking to make sure no one was listening, then stepped closer to me. “I guess this is a better place to talk,” she said with a smile.

I wasn’t in the mood to move, much less climb down from the top bunk, so I stayed put. “Would it be okay if I just stayed here?” I asked, half-joking but half-expecting her to insist I come down. Not that I thought Casandra would get aggressive—it didn’t seem like her—but you never know.

She waved it off. “That’s fine. It won’t take long. I just need something from you.”

Curious, I tilted my head. “Oh? What do you need?”

“Would you mind giving me your phone number?”

Her request caught me off guard. Why would she need my number? From what I remembered, she didn’t even have a charger, which made me assume she didn’t have a phone either.

Noticing my hesitation, Casandra quickly added, “Tomorrow we’ll probably reach the island, and I might not get another chance to ask. Besides, once we arrive, we’ll be going our separate ways. Honestly, it’s been a pleasure meeting you—and, whether you believe it or not, I’m actually a little worried about you.”

Worried? Why? We hardly knew each other. Her concern didn’t sit right with me, especially after overhearing that conversation with Gideon. Was this just a way for them to keep tabs on me, or was I overthinking everything?

She continued, as if trying to reassure me, “You remind me a lot of my sister. I’d like to stay in touch, you know, in case either of us needs help. I think it could be useful for you, too.”

She had a point. An ally could come in handy, especially since Aunt Marie was... well, let’s just say... a bit strange. “Yeah, sure,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Give me a sec. I don’t have my number memorized.”

I found my contact info and read it out loud. Casandra nodded as I spoke.

“Got it,” she said.

“Wait, really? You didn’t even take out your phone.”

She grinned. “Well, my phone’s a bit... different. It doesn’t work like a normal one, and I can’t show it to you right now. But maybe someday.”

Different? Odd? What kind of phone was she talking about?

Oh, right. I needed to stop overthinking before my brain short-circuited from all the worrying.

"Is that all, Casandra?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

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"That’s all, thanks!" she said with a quick wave before heading out of the room. There was a hint of awkwardness in her demeanor, but I could sense her sincerity.

As the door closed behind her, my attention shifted back to my phone. Since I’d already written to Beth, Mom, Dad, and Kyle, maybe it was time to message Aunt Marie. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea.

I opened a new message and started typing:

"Hi Aunt Marie,

This is Aria. How are you doing? I'm on my way to see you, but it would be really helpful if you could send me your address or let me know where to find you. Thanks, and see you soon!"

I reread the message. It felt stiff, awkward, and kind of formal. Should I sign it with "Love, Aria," or "From your niece, Aria"? Or maybe just my name? I groaned internally—why was writing to her so much harder than messaging anyone else?

Morning came, and we started the day helping out and having breakfast. Thankfully, there were no issues with Jim this time. He stayed quiet and distant, but that was fine—peace was all that mattered.

We stepped outside to enjoy the ocean breeze, hoping to feel refreshed. Casandra waved at me and gave a playful wink, which made me smile. But Gideon quickly caught on, grabbing her hand as if to silently remind her to keep her distance from me and focus on him instead. I chuckled softly; it was both cute and amusing. I never expected Gideon to be the jealous type, but seeing the slight blush on his face made me realize just how deep their bond must be—and it seemed like he had romantic feelings for her. If that was the case, he struck me as the overly protective boyfriend type.

I reflected over things. It was a bit sad that I hadn’t earned his trust. It would’ve been nice to leave this journey with us as friends instead of just acquaintances.

Granny Chan and I exchanged light conversations. True to my promise, I avoided asking any more questions since our last discussion. I decided to wait until we reached the island for proper answers.

I glanced at Jim as he headed back into the cabin. He could have been one of my direct source of information, but he didn’t seem trustworthy.

I felt a pang of regret that I hadn’t had much of a chance to connect with Bill. Without knowing how to communicate with him, it felt like a missed opportunity.

Granny Chan mentioned that it would only take about an hour, give or take, to reach the island. With that, I figured it was time to start gathering my things and preparing for departure.

Before heading into the cabin and back to the girls' room, Granny Chan's words lingered in my mind: "A black bird in a dream often represents change, transformation, or the mysteries of the unknown. It can also symbolize a bridge between life and death, guiding one toward hidden truths or transitions."

I glanced up at the sky finding some kind of reassurance, half-expecting to spot the black bird—or any bird for that matter. But the sky stretched out clear and empty, not a single seagull or feathered creature in sight.

With a small sigh, I turned and made my way inside, pushing the thought to the back of my mind—for now.

Inside the girls' room, I pulled a face towel from my bag. I wanted to take a proper bath, but with Jim around, I didn’t feel entirely safe. Instead, I settled on just washing my face.

I sat at the table, resting my chin in my hand, waiting for Jim to come out of the restroom. A soft sigh escaped my lips.

Almost there, Aunt Marie.

When Jim finally stepped out, his damp hair and shirt clearly indicated he'd just taken a bath. He wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans. As soon as he saw me, his face twisted into a scowl.

“What? Got something to say?” he snapped.

I quickly shook my head, avoiding his gaze.

But then his demeanor shifted, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Wait a minute... You look familiar. Hey, you—what’s your name?”