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────002, new beginnings.
AS IT TURNS OUT, HURRICANE AGATHA COMES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, like the poised serpent she was waiting to strike, and wreaks havoc on the Outer Banks island until it is completely desolated.
Cleo hadn't slept for the majority of the night, though she knew for the most part that it wasn't solely because of the hurricane. Instead, her mind was filled with a billion other thoughts (mostly about JJ━━because, God, why did he have to be stubborn and why did she have to be so stupid?), punctuated by the sound of shrill howling winds so strong that the sturdy structure of the house feels feeble in comparison as it wobbles to and fro, and booming thunder so loud the heavens sound as if they'd collapse. The next morning, when Cleo and her grandmother survive the reckoning of the storm, she registers the full effect Agatha had.
She's fortunate Blue Shell Cottage made it out alive with little scratches━━a few seashells from the roof knocked off and an elm tree in the front yard uprooted, though the main structure of the house was otherwise still safe and sound━━but the town could not say the same. Two plots down from the cottage, a house had been deracinated, and on the main strip of the island amidst the marina various shops had been dismantled to the point of missing glass panes on windows, shingles on roofs being torn off (or, in some cases, whole chunks of the roof vanishing somewhere down the marsh), and tethered boats on the docks either sunken or dismantled or badly beaten. The island itself was littered with debris from the various dilapidated buildings, trash and driftwood once upon a time making up a house now floating in the surfaces of the shallows of the marina. At some point during the night, the power had cut across the entire town leaving Blue Shell Cottage, like many others, drowned in darkness. This morning wasn't any better, as with the A.C. no longer working, the balmy heat of the summer's mid-afternoon sun was relentless.
It's hard to register how the island had looked so serene just the day before when Cleo had first arrived━━but this would not be the last storm the Outer Banks endured. She knows the town will find its footing again, and soon. They always do, anyway.
Now, Cleo finds herself wandering aimlessly down the marina, surveying the aftermath of the storm. Everyone seems to be out, trash bags in hand as they attempt to clean the surrounding land, and investigate their belongings still strapped in boats docked at the pier. In the midst of all the chaos on the harbor, the hurricane response team that was called rush about, and the tent they've set up is swarmed by worried residents. She passes the Heyward's shop on the way, and spots the recognizable scowling demeanour of the patriarch of the family before he sees her. Heyward himself was always friendly to Cleo, despite at times more often than not being a little haughty and impersonal. He's out back from his shop, broom in hand as he sweeps meticulously at the trash littering his property. He looks up for a brief pause of respite, squinting up past the sun when he notices the girl as he wipes the sweat from his brow. She supposes it's hard to miss her anyway when considering her flashy auburn red hair. Upon noticing her, the makings of a surprised smile tug at his face.
