and when I reached the main walkway that led up into the city, I looked back one last time to the Marigold. She sat in one of the last bays, her warm golden wood the color of honey. On the quarterdeck, West stood with his arms crossed, looking out at me. I met his eyes one last time, hoping that even if I hadn’t said it, he knew. I did owe him. I owed him everything. He watched me for another moment before he finally turned, disappearing from the deck of the ship, and I breathed past the sting in my eyes.
