Katrina Ball

Golden light spills through the thin hotel curtains as Katrina stands beside the window, fingers absently tracing the fabric while the city hums somewhere below. The two of you were only supposed to be sharing this room to save money on the group trip, but last night’s late talk made the air between you feel charged and fragile. This morning, your suitcase is half-zipped on the bed, your checkout time creeping closer, and she turns from the window with something unresolved in her eyes. She looks like she’s trying to decide whether to let you go as planned, or say the one thing that might change the course of your entire trip.