Briony lowered her gaze, staring at her tightly clasped hands. "I heard it's still pretty backward over there."

"It is," Stewart replied. "Most young people leave the island to find work elsewhere. The people who stay are mostly older-middle-aged or elderly."

Briony took a deep breath, summoning her courage. "Do you know if my mother's all right?"

Stewart hesitated. "It's hard to say for now."

She turned sharply to look at him, every nerve in her body suddenly on edge. "What does that mean?"

Just then, a flight attendant appeared with a mug of warm milk.

Stewart took the mug and held it out to Briony. "Have some milk, try to get some sleep."

But the last thing Briony wanted right now was to drink milk and fall asleep.

"Stewart, you can be honest with me. I'm going to have to face the truth eventually," she insisted.

He sighed. "You'll find out soon enough. There's no point in rushing it."

He nudged the milk closer. "Just drink it and try to rest."

glanced at the milk, her expression cool. “I'm not

an eyebrow. "Worried I poisoned

but the thought makes me sick. I can't drink it." Realizing he had no intention of telling her about her mother, Briony turned

making it clear the

a moment, then handed the

blanket and

The flight attendant offered the

them with a

recline the seat into a

back to him, pulled the blanket

for a few seconds, then finally closed his

night sky was calm. The flight passed without

next morning, the private jet

hadn't slept well at all. Her night was a jumble of restless,

a dull ache

morning wind hit her, making

brow furrowed, followed behind Stewart and

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