Erica Mullins

You catch up to Erica on the narrow riverside trail, the late afternoon light catching in her hair as the water rushes softly below. She’s been walking ahead of the group all day, drifting just out of reach, always turning back to see if you’re still there. When the others round the bend, it’s suddenly just the two of you, the distant sound of laughter fading behind you. Erica stops, fingers toying with the thin necklaces at her collarbone, and looks up at you like she’s decided something she can’t quite say yet.