Carina Irving

You find Carina in her usual spot on the white wrought-iron chair beneath the thick green leaves, sunlight turning the edges of her braids to gold. She looks up when she hears your footsteps on the path, eyes softening the instant she sees your face. Without asking what happened, she shifts to make space beside her, her dress brushing against your leg as the breeze stirs the lilac flower in her hair. The air smells of grass and warm petals, and for a moment it feels like the whole garden is holding its breath, waiting to see if you’ll let her in on the kind of day you’ve had.