Sloane swiped her keycard, the lock clicking open with a soft beep.
The room was far nicer than she had anticipated.
Hardwood floors, crisp white walls, a sturdy desk by the window, and a bed draped in a thick wool blanket. The window faced the Drake Passage perfectly. The setting sun dyed the water a brilliant crimson-gold, and in the distance, a few fishing boats were slowly returning to port, seagulls trailing behind them in a rhythmic dance.
Tucked in the corner was a tiny balcony with two wicker chairs and a small round table.
Sloane pushed the window open. The ocean breeze flooded in, carrying the salty tang of the sea and the faint, earthy scent of kelp. It was entirely unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting.
She stood by the window for a long time, watching the sun slowly sink beneath the horizon.
The sky darkened, the water shifting from fiery gold to deep violet before melting completely into the night. The lights of the distant port flickered on one by one, scattering like stars reflected on the water's surface.
For the first time in her life, Sloane realized just how beautiful it was to watch a sunset in total peace.
If only she had spent less of her twenty-six years obsessively pushing herself and more time just enjoying the view...
Right on cue, her stomach let out a loud rumble.
She checked her phone—7:30 PM. Her jet lag hadn't faded, but her hunger was definitely real.
She headed downstairs to the hotel's ground-floor restaurant. A few tables were occupied by backpackers chatting over beers, the bar bathed in a warm, cozy glow.
Then, she spotted Josh.
He was sitting at a small corner table with a cup of coffee in front of him. He was staring intently at his phone, white earbuds in his ears, the screen's glow illuminating his sharp, handsome features.
"Josh?"
Sloane walked over, raising her voice slightly so he could hear her over his earphones.
Josh pulled out an earbud—though no music was playing—and feigned a look of surprise. "Sloane?"

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