That evening, she found Wind on the sea wall, tracing a thin crack in the stone with his toes.

She sat beside him.

“They say our magic trick wasn’t a trick at all. It was voodoo, and we need to undo it,” he said.

“Wind, it was only a trick. I heard the forecast.”

“It said the breeze would die before noon.”

“I only put the cork in when I saw the water getting smoother.”