Jemma’s legs carried her away from everything. The pain, the sorrow, the regret…she ran as if her life depended on it. 

Memories flashed before her eyes, the entire night of her seventeenth birthday replaying in her mind, the events leading to the biggest and most important decision she had ever made teasing her. Suddenly she felt like she was that little lost girl all over again. That fateful night she hadn’t just lost her father — Jemma had lost herself.

Her feet felt wet. Looking down, Jemma realised that she had unknowingly been brought to the beach. The full moon reflected off the clear surface of the sea. Everything was quiet, as if time had stopped. The air usually filled with the sounds of nature, of nightingales and bumblebees, was eerily quiet. The waves crashed softly on the shore, spraying Jemma’s legs, but she couldn’t hear them, couldn’t feel them. Everything was still…

“I am moving away,” she announced at breakfast. Her mother had put down the paper she was reading, staring at her daughter in confusion.

“Darling, what happened?” 

Jemma poured herself a cup of coffee, sipping the bitter liquid, while contemplating how to phrase her next words, “I got a job offer,” she began.

“Oh, this is wonderful, Jem,” her mother had exclaimed, but Jemma could see through her facade. Ever since her father had passed away 7 years ago, her mother lived in constant fear of losing her only child as well, “Want a croissant?” the woman added, “What kind of job is it, dear?”

Jemma set her cup hard on the counter, spinning around to face her mother. There it was, the fake smile plastered on her face, but her eyes — the same colour as Jemma’s — gave everything away. 

“I am moving to Korea, mother,” the girl said, not waiting for the older woman’s reaction. She threw the mug into the sink and grabbing her bag, she left the apartment. There was nothing left to say.

Jemma felt the world tilting. Her knees hit the wet sand, the flowers she had still been gripping falling to the side.

“Are you sure about it?” the woman had asked for what felt like the thousandth time, “It’s Korea after all, it’s not like moving a few states over to the west…”

Jemma slammed the lid on a shoe box, startling her mother.

“I am sure of it, mother, and nothing you say can convince me to change my mind,” there was a hard edge to her tone, “I appreciate your concern, but this is not helping me at all,”

Tears glistened in the elder woman’s eyes, but she quickly brushed them away before Jemma noticed, “Is this because of me?” she whispered softly, moving closer to her daughter. Reaching out to touch Jemma’s hair, the younger girl jerked away from the fingers, the mother’s fingers hanging in the air for a few seconds.

“No, mother,” Jemma’s voice was devoid of emotion, “It is not your fault,”

They both knew this was a lie.

Tears threatened to fall, as Jemma buried her face in her palms. She was stronger than this, she kept telling herself, but nothing seemed to be able to stop the tidal wave of emotions threatening to engulf her.

“Have a safe flight my love,” the elder woman smiled as she handed Jemma the small travel bag, “I love you so much,”

“Thank you, mother,” the voice was mechanical, a well rehearsed reply to anything Julianna Palmer ever said.

Jemma hurried toward the security checkpoint, handing in her documents, when her mother’s voice rang through the terminal again, “Wait, Jem, wait!”

Slowly turning around, she saw the woman hurrying toward the checkpoint, rummaging through her bag.

“What is it, mother?” the girl sighed , exasperation clearly readable on her face.

“I just forgot…happy birthday, my darling,” Julianna handed her a small midnight blue box, “It belonged to your father’s mother and he wanted you to have it someday,” she said, embracing Jemma.

“Thank you,” she patted her mother awkwardly on the back. Untangling herself, the young manager handed her passport and ticket to the security guard and went through the checkpoint. She was aware that her mother was still looking at her, but she never looked back. 

Not even once.

The world was threatening to turn upside down, as Jemma buried her hands into the cold sand, the tears staining her porcelain skin. She didn’t know how long she had been at this beach — seconds, minutes, hours? — but time seemed to be an abstract concept at this moment. Nothing mattered.

Everything was quiet.

A warm hand appeared on Jemma’s shoulder, a figure sitting down next to the girl. Startled, she tried to jerk away, but the hand just tightened its grip, to letting go. Through blurred vision, Jemma made out the brown hair and petite fig