Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Savannah leaned farther back into my chest. I kept hearing her breathing catch as another whale came over the surface, ever closer to our boat. The mountains surrounded us, snow-covered and still, the whales crashing into the water the only sound—that and the gasps of our group as we stayed transfixed on the incredible sight before us.
“There’s another one,” Lili said quietly and pointed to the side of the boat. Savannah squeezed my hand, but I knew this wasn’t because she’d had a bad thought about her sister. This was because she was overwhelmed with the sights. Savannah hadn’t said a word on this boat trip. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in awe.
It was almost too much, seeing this. Surrounded by high mountains, the city of Tromsø picturesque behind us. In our grief, our worlds were reduced to only the loss of our loved one and the gutting feelings each day without them brought. Being in a place like this, seeing things in real life that I’d only ever seen on TV, reminded me just how big and vast the world was. And how tiny my life was in the grand scheme of it all. A single grain of sand on the universe’s beach.
The crisp scent of the stunning fjords and the local delicacies was a long way from the smell of oak trees and the campfire smoke of my hometown. And the cherry and almond scent of Savannah brought a sense of peace to my soul that I wasn’t sure I’d ever had—even when Cillian was alive.
Two whales came above the water, one by one, and Savannah turned her head, looking up at me with pure joy shining from her smile. My stomach flipped, and I kissed her head and held her tighter in my arms. “I can’t believe I’m seeing this,” she murmured, just for me to hear. She drank in the view, and a shiver seemed to cut down her spine.
When I tore my attention from Savannah and looked to everyone else on the trip, they were just as transfixed. It made me think back to this morning and the group session Mia and Leo had made us attend. Only, this session had been different from the others. There was no talk of loss or grief or the feelings that drowned us. Instead, they’d flipped the switch and asked us what brought us joy. I’d been stumped by the sudden change in tone. They wanted to know what sights and sounds or traditions we loved that brought happiness to our lives.
Fall, Jade had answered. Hannukah, Lili had said with a nostalgic smile. Being around people, Travis had said, and my stomach fell. After what’d happened to him, I wasn’t sure he had many people around him anymore.
Freedom, Dylan had replied, then flicked a quick look my way. I was starting to think Dylan was hiding, and perhaps he was sick and tired of doing so. When Mia turned to Savannah, she fiddled with her hands but said, Family. My throat grew tight at her quiet answer. And the world, she added, surprising me. She kept her eyes on her busy hands as she said, I like science. The stars. I like seeing things that take my breath away. That I don’t always understand.
I wanted to tell her that just looking at her did that to me.
When Mia asked me, I didn’t have an answer. At least not one I could speak out loud. Because when Savannah held my hand and squeezed it twice, seeing me stay silent, I wanted to tell everyone it was her. Savannah. Right now, she was the only thing to bring any form of happiness to my life.
That was as terrifying as it was comforting.
“Are you okay?” Savannah asked now, tipping her head up to meet my eyes.
“Yeah,” I said and rested my chin on the top of her head. Savannah was petite, yet she fit perfectly against me, a jigsaw piece custom—made to fit mine.
The boat kept pushing through the water, even when the whales seemed to disappear. We sailed down the fjords, seeing small villages and sweeping coastlines covered in ice and snow. They reminded me a bit of the Lake District we’d just been to. How they were isolated and alone. The perfect place to get away from it all. Like the poets Savannah had taught me about. She hadn’t known, but I’d read her paperback cover to cover, just to know what had her so transfixed. I’d wanted to understand her more, even when I was trying to keep her at arm’s length.
“Look at that,” Savannah said, pointing to a snow-covered beach. There was wonder on her face. It was an odd sight—to see what a sunny and golden view would usually be—covered with the white of snow. “How incredible,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. I filed that away to make sure she saw it up close before we left Norway for our next destination.