The afternoon breeze gently swept through Jeanice’s hair as the motorcycle Evans rode glided down a sloping road toward a place she had never been before. The narrow road was lined with tall trees, forming a natural canopy that filtered the sunlight into golden streaks.

Jeanice tightened her grip around Evans’s waist. Though she said nothing, her heart felt at ease. Evans was warm. Safe. But Freya’s words from earlier that day kept echoing in her mind, like a reverberation that refused to fade.

Not long after, the motorcycle came to a stop at the edge of a low cliff overlooking the beach. A wide stretch of white sand spread...