Maeve–Four Months Later
Suntra was not what I was expecting.
I had become accustomed to the seemingly endless white-sand beaches of Avondale, where the sand grit was so fine it felt like powdered sugar as you walked barefoot in the surf. Suntra’s sand was coarse and golden and dappled with tidepools brimming with long strings of seaweed.
The island itself was small and mountainous, large rock formations jutting out of the shallow sea all around the snug cove I found myself in. It was beautiful, and intimating, and nothing like I had imagined Troy’s childhood home to be.
He was talking to Robbie in the distance, their heads bent against the stiff, warm breeze coming off the water. It was spring, but the air was thick with tropical humidity, and had it been a clear day, I knew I would have been roasting.