"Then," Grace Barron looked at her again, eyes curved in the light, "from now on, you can be my dragon. Just mine."
After all, she had already decided—she would only ever be Oakley Ponciano's gold coin.
"Deal," Oakley said, without a second of hesitation.
She lifted her hand toward Grace, her little finger sticking out, small and stubborn."Here."
Bathed in the rose-gold afterglow, her pinky curled like a tiny hook, impossibly cute.
"What's this for?" Grace asked, even though she already knew.
"A pinky swear," Oakley said, tipping her chin up at her.
The sunset spilled everywhere, and the sea breeze rolled through, bright and soft. Oakley's gaze was clear as glass, like some small, accidental spirit that had wandered into the human world and hadn't found her way back yet.
Grace couldn't help smiling. She raised her own hand and hooked her little finger around Oakley's. They tugged gently back and forth in midair, sealing something neither of them had quite put into words.
"All right," Oakley said, chin lifted, eyes on her. "It's decided."
But just as she was about to let go, Grace's fingers slid down and closed around her wrist instead. Oakley didn't even have time to react before her body pitched forward, stumbling straight into the soft, warm circle of Grace's arms.
"And now…" Grace murmured, dipping her head, "we stamp it."
She tilted her face and pressed her mouth to Oakley's.
It was a light kiss, barely there, but the touch of Grace's lips on hers felt like being dropped without warning into a wave of gentle warmth. Oakley's thoughts drifted away from the blazing clouds at the horizon, leaving the sunrise to burn quietly without her.
All around them, the sunlight unfurled like a vast golden veil, falling over their shoulders and hair, outlining their silhouettes in the softest glow.
They were standing on a real beach, on a real winter morning, but it felt as if they'd stepped into a storybook.
They kissed for a long time, until the world narrowed to the rush of the tide and the sound of their own breathing. When they finally broke apart, they leaned their foreheads together, fitting neatly into the breathtaking view around them.
They looked as if they belonged there. As if the sunrise had been waiting just for them.
By evening, the sea and sunrise felt like a different lifetime.
Grace and Oakley stepped out of a cozy dessert shop, the sweetness of warm syrup and fruit still lingering on their tongues. Grace checked the time and realized it was nearly the hour they'd agreed on with Natalie Pierce.
They got in the car and drove over.
Natalie had changed for the evening. She was wearing a light almond-colored coat and a small dark brown shoulder bag. Her hair was loosely pinned up, a few strands left free to frame her face, and her makeup was the kind of understated, everyday look that simply made her features calmer, clearer, more composed.
Even standing there without moving, she radiated the quiet elegance of someone who read a lot and kept most thoughts to herself.
"Natalie!" Oakley waved at her out the window. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Not really," Natalie said.
She walked over, opened the back door, and slid gracefully into the seat. As she settled in, she asked with easy curiosity,"So, where have you two been all day?"
"Horseback riding," Oakley answered from the passenger seat, twisting around to look at her. "It was fun, but pretty wild. I think I got a little motion-sick from the horse."
If it hadn't been for Grace riding with her, steady at her back, she would have been ten times more nervous. Between the instructor's calm voice and Grace's constant reassurance, she'd actually managed to learn enough to stay on without panicking.
"I just went to a church this morning," Natalie said. She took her bag off and laid it flat across her knees, fingers absently turning the tiny star-shaped stud in her ear. "Lit a candle, said a few prayers for myself. The church here is gorgeous, actually. It's huge, and the food in their little cafeteria is surprisingly good. If you haven't been, I'd really recommend it."
It was the only place she'd gone.
She didn't know what was wrong with her lately. Everything she did felt slow, unfocused. She drifted from hour to hour, thoughts tangling into a dense, wordless weight in her head.
"Okay, we'll put it on the list," Oakley said, leaning forward to touch up her lipstick in the visor mirror. Then she asked, "So, how long are you staying here anyway?"
"A week," Natalie replied.
"A week?" Oakley counted quickly on her fingers. "So you've still got quite a few days left?"
"Mm-hm. What about you?"
"We can't stay that long," Oakley said, jerking her thumb toward Grace. "She has to get back to work. So we're heading home the day after tomorrow."
She did want to wander a little longer with Grace, soak up the holiday and stretch it until it snapped. But Grace had already pushed her schedule to the limit. Sometimes life simply did not negotiate.
"Got it." Natalie smiled. "The busy professional life, huh."
"That's right," Oakley said cheerfully. "She's out doing important things. Unlike me, who specializes in loafing around."
She wasn't teasing. She was genuinely proud. In her eyes, Grace was brilliant on every front, someone she could throw a spotlight on without a shred of hesitation.
"Big things…" Grace said, feeling a little guilty. "It's not like I'm changing the world. You're the chosen one here. You can make money without leaving the house. That's the real dream."
Oakley laughed behind her hand."Okay, okay. Let's just say we're all awesome in different ways."
Grace didn't argue. She just nodded along, content to let Oakley draw the line like that.
Talking and laughing, they drove until the road opened up in front of a small villa.
The place was beautiful—white walls, dark roof tiles, clean lines and staggered levels. It sat in the middle of carefully tended greenery, looking like it had been lifted whole from a watercolor painting. Everything about the landscaping, from the trees to the pathway stones, radiated a quiet stillness.
Grace eased up on the gas and the car slowed. The blur outside the windows resolved into detail—the pattern on the brick, the shape of the hedge, the faint warm light from the windows.
"This is it?" Oakley leaned closer to the glass, taking it in.
"Yeah," Grace said.
She parked, unbuckled her seat belt, and glanced quickly at Natalie in the back, then at Oakley."Let's go."
For some reason, her heart felt as if someone had reached into her chest and hooked it upward. It hung there, suspended halfway between ribs and throat, refusing to settle.
In the backseat, Natalie picked up her phone and tapped it awake, switching to the front camera as if to check her hair. Halfway through, she stilled.
Why was she even doing this? Who exactly was she trying to look good for?
It was ridiculous.
She let out a breath and shook her head at herself, a small, self-mocking smile tugging at her lips. Then she opened the car door and climbed out with Oakley.
They stepped through the gate into the yard.
Grace glanced over and saw that Sabrina Myers was already out there. The grill was set up in the middle of the yard, a table next to it piled high with ingredients.
Some of the meats were already marinated, neatly arranged. Beside them was a small mountain of vegetables, all chopped and ready. Sabrina was currently threading them onto skewers, one by one.
She was dressed casually today—grey coat, white shirt underneath, hair half tied back with a few pieces falling loosely over her forehead.
She had that same uncanny quality as always: no matter how proper the clothes, once she put them on, they ended up looking irreverent. As if she'd shrugged on respectability just to see how it fit.
Natalie hadn't intended to look at her. She truly hadn't. But her eyes still wandered over, caught, and lingered for a heartbeat too long.
"You're here?" Sabrina heard the movement and flicked her gaze up, taking them all in.
"Great. Come over here and give me a hand. Help me skewer these. I'm about to die doing it all alone."
Grace steered Oakley and Natalie over, and as soon as they got close enough to see what was on the table, she frowned.
She reached out, picked up a slice from one of the plates, and held it up."What is this supposed to be?"
"Potato slices," Sabrina said, barely glancing at it.
"Oh, potato slices," Grace repeated, studying the piece like an archaeologist examining a newly unearthed relic. "Your knife skills are… impressive. Honestly, this goes beyond anything I thought humans were capable of."
The "slices" of potato were enormous and thick, more like slabs. The lotus root and other vegetables were the same—huge, chunky pieces that looked like you'd be full after two skewers, assuming they even cooked properly all the way through.
Sabrina kept threading, the skewer bending slightly under the weight."Get lost. What do you know? Thick pieces are more satisfying to eat."
Even as she said it, she silently admitted she maybe should have cut them a little thinner. Having everything oversized meant that every skewer required a ridiculous amount of force. It was the perfect example of working twice as hard for half the result.
"My bad, clearly I'm the ignorant one," Grace said, picking up a bare skewer. "Also, since when are you such a salad girl? Didn't you once claim that real barbecue means eating meat by the fistful?"
She remembered that particular quirk clearly. Sabrina would eat anything on a normal day, but the second they sat down at a grill, she'd ignore vegetables like they didn't exist.
Now it looked like she'd raided the produce aisle. There were so many different kinds of vegetables piled up that it genuinely looked like she'd brought home one of everything.
That was… unlike her.
Sabrina paused, just for a second, and then angled her head toward Natalie, who was standing next to Oakley."I may like meat," she said casually, "but some people like vegetables more. Right?"
Natalie's brows lifted ever so slightly.
Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she was exhausted and making connections that weren't there. But she couldn't help wondering—
Did Sabrina really remember her preferences?
It had been a couple of months ago. Sabrina had come by her shop late one night, and Natalie had ordered skewers heavy on vegetables and almost entirely free of meat. Sabrina had asked if she didn't like meat. Natalie had dodged the question by busying herself with Sabrina's clothes, and the topic had slipped away.
Sabrina didn't look at her again now. She simply said,"You can leave your bags inside,"
and dropped her gaze back to the skewer, working on her oversized vegetable tower.
"Okay," Oakley said.
She looped her arm through Natalie's and tugged gently."Come on, let's put our stuff away."
"Sure," Natalie nodded, and they went into the house together.
Inside, the decor matched the exterior—minimalist, understated, and quietly expensive. The kind of place you could describe in one sentence: it looked like money.
They set their things down and headed back into the yard.
Standing beside Grace and Sabrina, Oakley and Natalie picked up skewers and joined the assembly line, threading vegetables and chunks of meat with patient focus.
After a while, something seemed to occur to Sabrina. She looked up from her work and addressed Grace.
"You're having the wedding next year, right? You and Oakley?"
"Yeah," Grace said, nodding. "So you'd better bring a big envelope."
"Of course," Sabrina said. She thought for a moment, then added, "Have you figured out where you're holding it?"
Oakley shook her head."No idea. But I do know I want to look beautiful. I want it to be the prettiest memory I have. When I look back, I don't want to see regrets everywhere."
The location felt secondary.
Grace found herself nodding. It was only now, saying it out loud, that she realized how much she was looking forward to it, too.
There was a time when she'd thought weddings were mostly fuss—complicated rituals that didn't mean much.
"Of course," Natalie chimed in softly. "You only get one life. Finding someone like that doesn't come easily."
She lowered her head again, threading the last piece onto her skewer.
Sabrina turned her head to look at her, then took that finished skewer gently from Natalie's hand and placed it in a basket.
"Do you want to meet someone like that?" she asked, voice deceptively light.
Grace and Oakley both turned to Natalie.
Natalie went quiet. Then she smiled, faintly."Right now, I don't have many thoughts about… most things."
Sabrina's mouth curled, a smile that didn't reach too far."I see."
Just then, Natalie's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen."It's my mom. I'm going to take this."
"Go ahead," Sabrina nodded. "We'll start grilling."
"Okay."
Natalie moved away with her phone, her steps quick but measured.
When she disappeared around the corner, Grace lit the charcoal with Sabrina, coaxing the fire until it was hot enough.
They laid the first skewers on the grill. Oakley watched Natalie's receding silhouette and frowned.
"I didn't know her mom still called her," she murmured.
Sabrina flicked a look at her."Moms calling their kids is normal, isn't it? Her mom doesn't call often?"
It was just a phone call, but Oakley's tone had sounded… off. It made Sabrina realize there were plenty of things she didn't actually know.
Oakley didn't know that much either. Natalie had never sat her down and gone into detail. But they'd talked often enough that she'd picked up things between the lines.
From the way she spoke, you could tell that Natalie's relationship with her family was… distant.
She remembered one conversation in particular: she'd asked Natalie about her plans for New Year's, and Natalie had said she didn't really have any. She'd probably do what she always did—sleep in, make herself milk tea, read, binge a drama, cook something nice for dinner.
Oakley had blurted, "That sounds like you're spending it alone."Natalie had replied, calm as anything, "I am. I spend most of my holidays alone."
Then Oakley had asked if she wasn't going home, and Natalie had smiled, that thin smile of hers, and said she wasn't close to her family and barely kept in touch.
"That's all I really know," Oakley said now, glancing at Sabrina. "She doesn't talk about it much. She's… private. Very private. I have no idea why."
Sabrina didn't respond. She just kept brushing oil over the skewers.
The red meat sizzled over the glowing charcoal, fat slowly rendering out, the surface turning golden-brown. The smell of grilling meat drifted up, rich and tempting, but Sabrina's thoughts seemed miles away. She sprinkled the seasoning once, twice, three times over the same piece before Oakley nudged her.
"Sabrina. Enough seasoning. You're going to suffocate us."
Sabrina blinked, coming back to herself.
Grace watched her for a moment, then finally asked the question that had been hovering at the back of her mind."You really like her, don't you?"
Sabrina let out a small laugh."You know that saying—'it takes two hands to clap'? Sounds like something a jerk would say, but when it comes to feelings, it fits. My liking her is one thing. In the end, it's about whether she likes me. If she doesn't… it's just me clapping in the air."
"That's true," Grace agreed. "But how do you know for sure that she doesn't?"
Sabrina looked at her as if she'd grown a second head."I confessed. She turned me down. Isn't that pretty clear?"
Oakley bit her lip."Not everyone is as brave as you are about facing their feelings."
"Mm?" Sabrina lifted her eyes.
Grace knew what Oakley was trying to say, so she picked up the thread."Last night, when we were talking with Natalie, she… let a few things slip. Not details, exactly. But enough to get a sense of it."
She poked at a skewer absently with her tongs.
"She's been hurt. Badly, I think. Bad enough that now, when she gets scared, her first instinct is to curl up into herself. That's my read, anyway."
"So what exactly did she say?" Sabrina asked, brows pulling together.
Oakley sighed."She didn't name names. It's just… it sounded like her ex was awful. The kind of person who wouldn't bother to visit even if she was in the hospital having surgery. The kind who'd stay away on purpose."
"I see," Sabrina said quietly.
She nodded once, as if finishing a thought.
By then, Natalie had finished her call and was walking back toward them.
As always, it was nearly impossible to read anything from her face. Everything was smooth, controlled, as if the conversation had been about nothing important at all.
"You're back," Oakley said at once, her smile popping back into place.
"Yeah." Natalie leaned closer to the grill, inhaling gently. "That smells amazing."
In the time she'd been gone, they'd already grilled an entire plate of skewers, and they did, indeed, look perfect—glistening, browned, dusted with spices.
"Right?" Oakley beamed. "Want to try one?"
She plucked up a lamb skewer, the fat and lean alternating in neat proportions, and held it out to Natalie.
"Thanks," Natalie said.
She took a bite and blinked in surprise."This is actually really good. It barely tastes gamey at all."
She usually avoided lamb. It always felt like no matter how you marinated it, the taste was heavy, unmistakable. But this… this was different. The flavor of lamb was there, but not in that overwhelming, clinging way.
"I called the butcher last night and asked him to set some aside for me," Sabrina said. "Top quality."
"No wonder," Natalie said. "People who know their food really are something else."
She took another bite.
Oakley tilted her head, considering, then asked,"So what did your mom call about?"
"Money," Natalie said simply. "She wanted to borrow some."
"Oh."
Oakley didn't push. She let it rest there and turned back to her skewer.
Time slipped by without them noticing. The sky darkened bit by bit, the glow from the grill growing brighter in the dusk. Smoke rose in thin curls, carrying with it the smell of charcoal and spice, and the yard began to feel like the back corner of a tiny, hidden street-food stall.
For a fleeting second, Grace had the oddest feeling that she was working a roadside stand instead of at a friend's gathering.
When another batch of skewers finished, Grace carried the platter over to the table.
By the time she and Oakley came back to the grill to finish off the remaining skewers, Sabrina suddenly asked,"Hey, do you two want coconut water? I've got a couple inside. If we don't drink them soon, they're going to go bad."
"If they're here," Grace said, "bring them out. We'll drink them."
Sabrina nodded and went back inside.
When she reappeared, she was carrying a basket filled with coconuts and a few bottles of beer. It looked like she'd raided a small convenience store.
She set two coconuts down, picked up a wickedly sharp knife, and started hacking and shaving away at the tops with quick, confident motions.
She moved as efficiently as one of those people in short videos—the ones who made opening coconuts look like a form of art.
But when she reached the fourth one, her hand slipped. The blade tipped, and the next second, it sliced clean into the side of her index finger.
It only took a heartbeat for the blood to well up and spill down her skin.
Grace and Oakley turned at the same time, eyes widening. But before either of them could move, Natalie had already rushed forward, reacting on pure instinct.
She grabbed Sabrina's hand and pulled it toward her.
The cut looked deep. Blood quickly covered the pad of her finger, bright and thick, enough to make anyone's knees feel weak.
"Is there a first-aid kit in the house?" Natalie asked, voice unsteady with urgency. Her heart felt like it was vibrating in her chest.
Sabrina blinked, staring at her."There… should be," she said.
"Where?" Natalie demanded. "Tell me. I'll get it."
Sabrina took in the panic in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders, and opened her mouth."I think it's in the third drawer of the cabinet by the front door. I'm pretty sure I saw it there."
"Okay."
Natalie released her hand and hurried into the house.
When she came back, she was carrying a small plastic box.
She sat down beside Sabrina, popped the latches open with two quick snaps, and began pulling out whatever she needed. Her hands were trembling, just slightly, betraying how tightly wound she was.
Sabrina lowered her lashes."It's fine. Don't worry. It's just a scratch."
"With a cut this size?" Natalie's brows knit tightly as she studied the wound. "That is not 'just a scratch.'"
"Maybe it's because it doesn't hurt that much," Sabrina said lightly. "So I'm not really bothered by it."
Natalie stared at her."What kind of logic is that?"
Her tone sharpened, worry making her impatient.
"Just because it doesn't hurt doesn't mean you can ignore it. A cut is still a cut, even if it's small. And this isn't. That knife has been who-knows-where, and you have no idea how many germs are on it. What if it gets infected because you couldn't be bothered to clean it properly?"
She didn't wait for an answer. She bent her head and focused on what she was doing, disinfecting the wound, her movements slow and careful, fingers gentle but sure.
She hadn't always been this way. She hadn't always cared about health, or rest, or scars.
She'd learned it the hard way, after a serious illness that had hollowed her out from the inside. It had been a horrible time, but it had also burned one truth into her bones: in this world, the only person who could consistently care for you, deeply and thoroughly, was yourself.
You could give other people tenderness. But you could not count on them to return it.
Sabrina watched her for a long time. Watched the way her brows stayed drawn together, the way she murmured little complaints under her breath. Her lips pressed together, the words she wanted to say piling behind them.
Then, suddenly, she leaned forward.
The shift in distance hit Natalie like a physical force. She was just smoothing the bandage over Sabrina's finger when she felt that presence closing in, and her heart slammed against her ribs.
She lifted her head on pure reflex, ready to ask what she was doing—
—and found Sabrina's face right there, close enough that she could see every line of her features.
Her bones were clean and sharp, cheekbones cut in all the right places, brows arched, eyes dark and gleaming. Up close, it was almost too much.
Natalie's breath stuttered.
Then Sabrina's mouth curved, just a little.
"So," she said quietly, "can I take this to mean… you care about me?"