“Finn,” I whispered.
I clutched the pendant in my fist, holding it tightly, grounding myself with its weight.
Then I took a deep breath.
“Finn was my best friend in the world.”
My voice carried across the quiet, open night.
“He was my life. He was my only light in a long, lonely darkness.”
The tears came freely, and I let them.
“He made me eat first. Every time.” I laughed softly through the ache in my chest.
“Even when we were starving. Even when there was nothing… he always made sure I got enough.”
“We told stories—kingdoms with feasts, soft beds, warm hands. That’s all we ever wanted. To be safe. To be free. To be together.”
I took a deep breath.
“He loved it when I sang to him, no matter if my voice cracked or if I was off key. He would say, ‘Little mouse, please, please sing to me.’ I never could say no. So… I’ll try now.”
I placed the necklace on the raft, letting it slip from my fingers like breath.
Then I pushed the boat out, and stood.
“He told me once, with stars in sight,
That dreams were made for wings and flight.
“The sea,” he said, “will call to me—
Where stars fall low upon the sea.”
I laughed and said, “They’re far too high,
They’re fixed and cold upon the sky.”
But he just grinned and shook his head,
“I’ll chase them still,” is all he said.
So sleep, my boy, where the starlight flows,
Where no one stays and no one knows.
The tide rolls in, the tide rolls free—
Come home to me, come home to me.
He walked the shore when winds were wide,
A lantern swinging at his side.
No ship, no oars, no sail, no crew—
Just sea and stars, and sky so blue.
