She existed between sea and sky, between memory and forgetting. When Arivian finds her one dawn, his quiet understanding feels like salvation. He sees her clearly, but clarity for something fading might be the cruellest gift of all.

I was five when I crawled under the fence and asked for his real name. Xinyi. Joy of the heart. Everyone else called him Harry, or Ian, or just "that Chinese kid." But I couldn't say it right at first. So I tried. I always tried. He gave me a nickname only I could use: Xin Xin. My joy. ...