beach (1)

Beach sand stuck between Lena’s toes as the tide crept forward in slow, breathy lunges. She stood still, like a stubborn piece of driftwood, eyes locked on the horizon.

The sun had just started to dip, brushing the clouds with gold and blood-orange, and the sky felt too wide for the thoughts in her head. The letter was still in her back pocket. Folded, frayed at the edge from how many times she’d thumbed it open.

Four lines. Barely a paragraph. No signature. Just coordinates. A date. And the words: I’ll be here if you’re ready. She hadn’t seen Jamie in six years.