Page 156 of The Darkest Hour

Her hope was faint, but it was there, like a flickering candle in the darkness.

She whispered, “You. . .really think so?”

“I do.”

“But. . .”

“One day, we’ll escape.”

She moved her gaze to the burnt up helicopter.

I grabbed her chin and put her view back on me. “We will. . .one day. . .”

Her eyes searched mine, and I saw the fire of resolve starting to ignite more within her again.

Her bottom lip quivered. “One day.”

“That’s right. We’re smart. We’re strong.”

“But—”

“The darkest hour is when the worst things can happen to you. Intense horrific things. We are in the darkest hour right now. Can you feel the darkness surrounding us, almost suffocating us?”

Surely, remembering that I had said this to her before on the raft, she gave me a sad smile. “Yes. I can feel it.”

“Good because it is only in our darkest hours do we discover the brilliant light within ourselves.”

More tears left her eyes, but that smile widened.

I ran my fingers through her dreadlocks. “Our souls burn.”

She shivered.

“They glow.” I took in my breathtaking new lover. “And it is a light that can never be dimmed. Nor put out.”

I leaned in and kissed her.

But this kiss was more than just a meeting of lips.

It was a collision of souls.

A merging of everything we had endured.

Every tragic moment out in the ocean and on this island.

Every whispered fear.

It was the darkness.

It was the light.

It was our shared pain.

It was our unspoken words of despair.

It was a kiss that bound us together.

Two broken souls that found solace amidst the ruins of our past lives.

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