Chapter 2The Train to Farewell

The desert was more brutal than I had imagined. The air was dry enough to leach every drop of moisture from a human body.

Even wrapped up tightly, my skin burned fiercely.

Just as I unscrewed a bottle of ice water to drink, Amara backed up and bumped into me.

The bottle slipped and crashed onto the sand. The water sank into the dry ground instantly, leaving only a dark, fleeting stain.

Amara looked apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Nerissa. Here, you can have my water..."

Terry stepped in, pulling her back by the hand. "You're too weak to go without water."

Then he glanced at me carelessly. "Just hold on. We'll have water once we reach the camp."

I struggled to breathe. Beneath my layers of clothing, my skin was already starting to crack.

The sun grew harsher. Amara suddenly touched her forehead and whimpered, "Terry, the sun is so bright. I feel dizzy."

Terry stopped immediately. His eyes swept over my heavily bundled figure, and without a shred of hesitation, he said, "Neri, give Amara your coat and sunglasses."

My body shook. I looked at Terry with pleading eyes. "I can't. I'll..."

Terry's patience wore thin. "Amara is sick. She needs them more than you do. It's just a little sun, what are you so afraid of?"

Seeing me shake my head frantically, his patience evaporated. He grabbed my wrist, tearing the protective wrap from my body. "Neri, don't be ungrateful."

The harsh sunlight beat down directly on my face and neck.

Instantly, a horrifying rash of red burns and tiny blood blisters flared across my skin.

When we first started dating three years ago, Terry had noticed my fear of the sun. He had silently taken off his jacket to shield my head for an entire afternoon, never mentioning that his own shoulders had blistered and peeled from the heat.

He still knew how to care for someone. It was just that the person he cared for was no longer me.

I bit my lip hard, refusing to let out a cry of pain.

Amara gasped and took a step back.

Terry covered her eyes, frowning with disgust as he looked at me. "What did you touch to break out like that? It's hideous."

Without another word, he wrapped his arm around Amara and turned to leave.

I stood alone in the heat, my hands shaking as I reached into the depths of my bag for a small bottle. It was filled with seawater I had brought with me.

I opened the cap, but before I could spray it onto my burning skin, a hand snatched it away.

Terry had doubled back. He stared at me, holding the bottle tightly. "Is this trash what you've been spraying on yourself to cause this reaction?"

"Give it back!" My voice cracked with absolute terror. "Please, Terry, give it back. That's seawater, it's not trash..."

Terry blinked, momentarily taken aback. He had probably never seen me lose my composure like this.

But his expression quickly turned cold, and he tossed the bottle far out into the desert.

I reached out, but I could only watch as the bottle landed on the sand, rolling a few times before being buried by the shifting wind.

"Stop buying this useless junk," he said coldly. "Neri, you should see what you look like right now. If you don't care about your own appearance, at least don't scare Amara."

His voice was swallowed by the desert wind. I stared at the sand, my eyes dry and burning, but my body could no longer produce a single tear.

By the time we reached the camp, I could barely stand.

A guide helped me to a chair and handed me a bottle of room-temperature water. But I didn't even have the strength to open it.

Terry was making a call nearby, his voice sounding tense and anxious.

Through my blurring vision, I saw Amara leaning against him, looking fragile and pale.

When he finished the call, he scooped her up in his arms. As he passed my chair, his footsteps paused.

But the next second, Amara whimpered, "Terry..."

Terry didn't wait. He walked away with large strides.

Their figures grew smaller and smaller until they vanished.

My lips parted, but my throat couldn't form a sound.

As my vision faded into black, the last thing I saw was the sand dunes outside the tent, dyed blood-red by the setting sun.

They looked like a burning sea.