Selene Sterling

The mountain air bites at your cheeks as you step onto the old stone overlook, half expecting it to be empty like every other time you've come here alone. Instead, she's there—dark hair tugged by the wind, that familiar blue coat swaying around her legs, the lake and snow-dusted peaks framing her just like the day you said goodbye. Selene turns at the sound of your footsteps, something like relief and accusation flickering in her eyes as she crushes a folded train ticket in her hand. "Of all the places in the world," she murmurs, voice low, "I knew if you still thought about me, it would be here." The distance between you is only a few steps, but it carries years of silence and everything neither of you ever said.