Spencer: I’m sorry I asked. That was insensitive of me. I’m sure it’d be hard for you seeing someone your age like that when … well, when you’ve been through what you have.
Willa: Thanks for understanding.
Spencer: I want to see you. I don’t think I’ll be much company, but we’re friends, right?
Willa: I think we are.
Spencer: Good.
I set my phone down, feeling better overall, even if my heart still races at the question he asked me.
How could I possibly face that family?
I flop back on my bed, staring at the pages on my ceiling, all the stories that exist in the world—too many for me to possibly ever read them all, no matter how hard I might try.
Harlow pushes my bedroom door open.nbsp;
“Come with me.”
“Where?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t ask questions, just do it.”
I stifle a laugh. “All right bossy pants.”
She sticks out her tongue. “It’s the only way to get you to do anything.”
She’s right.
I stand up and follow her downstairs and out the back.
She plops into the sand, and I do the same.
“What are we doing?”
“Wait, you’ll see.” She drapes her arms over her knees and smiles mischievously at me.
I shake my head. Knowing Harlow, there’s no telling what’s about to happen.
I cross my legs and dig my hands into the sand. It’s a warm evening and the salty air slides over my bare arms.nbsp;
The beach has to be the most calming place to live.
It isn’t long until I understand why Harlow brought me out here, as the burnt orange sun begins to sink beneath the ocean, bathing the world in purples and pinks.
“Do you see that?” she asks, looking at the sunset. “The sun rises and sets every day. That’s God’s promise to everyone on Earth that when darkness comes, the light will always conquer it. Things might get bad, Willa, and that’s okay, but goodness will come too. You have to have the patience to wait.”
I lay my head on her shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper.
She tilts her head so it rests on mine. “You’re welcome.”
We continue to sit there, watching the last rays of sunlight sink beneath the midnight-blue ocean.
“I think you might be a little bit wrong,” I tell her.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe the sunset is supposed to serve as a reminder that the darkness isn’t scary. You have to face it. It’s when you turn your back, when you let fear get the best of you, that the darkness begins to swallow you whole.”