ice cream (1)

By the time they reached the boardwalk, the sun had begun to melt behind the dunes, casting long, gold shadows over the weathered wood. The air smelled of brine and fried dough, the wind curling sticky-sweet around the crowds.

Children screeched in delight, gulls hovered with malicious intent, and music bled faintly from a carousel that hadn’t stopped turning in decades. Ellie didn’t say much. She hadn’t said much in days.

Her mother walked beside her, one hand loosely gripping the strap of her faded canvas bag, the other swinging free like she wasn’t holding anything at all—like her whole life wasn’t weighing her down with every step.