“What’s she doing?” Tara asked, startling me. She was right at my elbow; I hadn’t heard her move closer over.
The wind picked up as Farida unscrewed the lid of the jar and upended it. From my distance, the ashes that poured out and were swept away in the wind looked no different than the shifting sand at our feet. They dispersed as they were carried away, some falling into the ocean, some blending with the sand, and some drifting far off to places we might never know.
It took me a while to answer Tara — not just because I was distracted watching Farida, but because my throat was tight with tears. Eventually, I managed, “She’s getting some closure, I guess.”
~
We settled down in the soft, white sand along the cliffside, staring out at the ocean as it crashed against the shore. The sun sank lower in the sky with the approach of evening, though not low enough to spill the reds and oranges and pinks of sunset across the horizon. Slowly, as my pounding heartbeat calmed, the steady ebb and flow of the water began to sound like a collective, rhythmic sigh of relief.
Somehow, all of us were still alive.
Somehow, we were all still together in this.
Somehow, we would find a way to bring this to an end.
For now, we had each other and we had time to breathe.
Those Who Fall Page 17
