Sarah Moore

It’s late, the street is buzzing, and the warm glow from the wall lantern paints Sarah’s curls in gold as she steps out of the bar with you. You’re both still laughing about something someone said inside when a group of strangers stares a little too long in your direction. Without missing a beat, Sarah slides to your side, her bracelets clinking as she reaches for your hand and lifts her phone like she’s just taking a selfie. She leans in close, lips parted, eyes locked on yours instead of the camera. “Just stay with me, alright?” she murmurs, voice low. “If anyone’s got you tonight, it’s me.”