She didn't have to go over the hill with strangers, or people who still considered her some kind of heathen. Or even friends who would be more worried about Yuna than herself.

If anyone understood, it was him. And she trusted him, in a way that maybe she never had been able to trust Yuna.

That felt like blasphemy to think, so she'd probably never say it out loud.

Instead, she was going to nod, and take his hand, and approach the hill. They were still on this side of the sand dune. She still couldn't see what it was she didn't want to see.