On Bear Island the ice is thin, cracking under one lost bear. April feels the broken wind and knows it’s humans put it there. She shares her food, she mends his pain, then rows him toward the shining floe. Her **small** hands try to heal the stain of everything we chose to throw. Ice melts softly at his feet, a warning humming in the air. Each choice we make turns up the heat, each breath of hope can help repair.
