Which breaks first, the sea or the seashell? She cried over the storm, arms raised, wild hair flapping like a dying bird as unnaturally grounded as she was. She gripped the fragile, innocent thing-- too soon ripped from the sand-- to the sky like a sacrifice. It had edges as sharp as she did, and he could’ve sworn that droplets of blood were whipped away with the wind. She looked as close to a...