57 Damon goes for a check-up

A warm breeze kisses Lucy's skin.

This place bears through no winter, no chill, except for the iciness from its residents. Forever summer, the sun looks down upon those whose hearts are frozen because of grief.

A specialty hospital, the sign outside the airport says, for those who have lost their mate and their loved ones.

The sign is big and welcoming, promises of a tropical vacation instead of treatment and therapy. The amount of money management put into that sign is understandable since it's the sole reason this isolated island is being developed.

Lucy hails a cab and makes her way without a moment to spare. Windows down, she allows her hair to billow around her. The smell of the ocean is unfamiliar to her, growing up near urban jungles all her life, but it calms her down more than she thought it would.

It feels freeing. It's as if her spirit is made of air. Not even an hour has passed since she landed yet she feels lighter already.