Page 224 of Salt Between the Wolves

Eira glanced down at the open pages and then toward the harbor visible through the distant windows.

The answer surprised even her.

"I thought I was looking for answers."

Ilva waited.

"And?"

Eira considered the question before a faint smile touched her lips.

"Possibilities."

The older woman looked entirely too pleased with that answer.

"As I suspected."

Eira rolled her eyes.

"I dislike how often you seem to know things."

"No, you don't."

"Perhaps not."

Ilva pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down.

Only then did her gaze drift toward a small stack of loose pages resting beside Eira's elbow—the notes she had been carrying for days, filled with observations about the sea, the harbor, the gulls, and the shell she had found on the beach.

Without thinking, Ilva reached for the top page.

Eira immediately straightened.

"You don't have to read that."

The older woman ignored her completely, which was a familiar habit.

Her eyes moved across the page once, then a second time, before she set it down again.

The silence stretched long enough for Eira to regret bringing the notes at all.

Finally, Ilva spoke.

"Don't stop."

Eira blinked.

"What?"

"Writing."

The older woman nudged the pages gently with one finger.

"Don't stop."

Eira looked down at them.

"They're just notes."