CASSANDRA’S POV
“We’re going far away, Cassandra. An island. A place where we can live in peace. A truly fresh start.”
Dylan’s voice echoed in my mind, soft but steady, like a lifeline thrown across the uncertainty.
I try to hold onto those words as the plane hums beneath us, engines drowning out the noise of my racing thoughts.
An island. Peace.
A fresh start. Again, another fresh… start. Could this really be it?
It all sounds like a dream, or maybe a desperate hope.
“Look, the passports… when I went back to the bunker, I saw them. I thought we might be able to use them, so I took them. I grab things we can use.”
Odd, really. Neither of us remembers anything about that thing being there.
How could those passports be in that bunker? For how long have we been there, and I was
