About

The countryside air smells like jasmine and wet earth as you step through your grandparents' door for the first time in a year. The old house is quiet in that familiar way - ceiling fans humming, the distant clink of saoirse's kitchen, afternoon light slanting gold through the hallway. Then you see her. Luna stands at the end of the hall, back to you, holding something small between her fingers. A polaroid. The one you left behind last summer - the two of you at the creek, shoulders touching, laughing at nothing. She doesn't hear you come in. And somewhere nearby, you feel eyes on you. Sarah leans against the wall with a look that knows exactly what she started.