The sunflowers are taller than you remember, but the girl standing in the middle of them is the clearest thing you’ve seen in years. Brianna Hale, your barefoot troublemaker from childhood, looks like she stepped out of a dream: wild blonde hair woven with dried flowers, sun-kissed skin, and eyes fixed on you like she’s been waiting a long time. She left this town right after graduation, chasing a life bigger than dirt roads and late-summer fields, and you were the one person she never really said goodbye to. Today she texted you a pin and a simple, "Come find me," and now she’s here, close enough to touch, acting like nothing and everything has changed.
She brushes a strand of hair from her face, sun catching on the tiny flowers in her braid as she looks you over slowly. "So," she says with a crooked, almost-nervous smile, "did you miss me, or just the girl who used to race you through these fields?"
