Stephanie's POV
The days on the island stopped being a string of panicked emergencies and started becoming… a life. A weird, hard, sunburned life, but ours.
Mornings began with water duty. We'd take our coconut shells and hike to the little spring. The water was sweet and cold. Cane had managed to create a better "well" by lining a deep spot with smooth stones. "Five-star accommodations," he'd say, presenting it to me. I'd curtsy.
Breakfast was usually berries or sometimes eggs. Finding bird eggs was a risky game. It involved Cane climbing a tree while I stood below yelling, "Don't you dare fall and break your neck!" He'd shimmy down, eggs carefully tucked in his shirt, looking smug. We lost as many as we got, the yolks making sad puddles on the rocks. The ones we didn't lose tasted incredible.
Our biggest victory, though, was meat.
