Chapter 870 - 872
Susan nodded slowly. "We were broken when we got here. All of us. But the island... it gave us something else. Something new."
"And maybe something old too," Jude added. "Something we buried."
He stepped back, letting his gaze fall over each of them.
"We’ll start tomorrow. Each of us. We’ll talk. We’ll remember. Maybe if we piece it together, we’ll figure out what this thing really is."
They nodded, one by one. It wasn’t a perfect plan. But it was better than waiting in fear.
That night, Jude lay awake in the treehouse, surrounded by the quiet breathing of his wives. He thought about what the thing had said through Sophie, through Lucy, through Amelia. About guilt. About favorites. About forgotten things. He tried to summon memories from before the island, but they were hazy now, like water slipping through his fingers. He felt something approaching, something big and inevitable, pressing closer with each night.
Outside, the wind shifted.
And across the forest, near the border, the blue light pulsed again, twice this time.
The morning sunlight came like a slow wave through the canopy, golden and warm, filtering through the green like honey. Jude stirred in the treehouse, caught between dreams and the sound of birdsong echoing across the camp. He blinked up at the wooden beams above him, hearing the soft breaths of those still asleep nearby. Lucy had her head on his chest again, her hand tucked under her cheek. Grace was curled beside her, legs tangled in the rough cotton blanket. The quietness felt deeper than usual, not peaceful, but expectant. He exhaled slowly and shifted his body with practiced care, gently lifting Lucy’s head and sliding away without waking them. They both stirred a little but settled again, wrapped up in each other’s warmth.