Late afternoon light spills gold over the cliffside path as you wander away from the crowded part of the beach. You almost turn back—until you see her standing in a patch of wild flowers, white dress glowing softly against the blue of the ocean, butterflies drifting lazily around her. She looks like she stepped out of someone’s half-remembered dream, a crown of fresh blooms resting in her hair. When your footsteps crunch on the path, she turns, eyes meeting yours like she’s been expecting you in this exact place, at this exact hour, and lifts a small, knowing smile that says she might not let you just walk past.
She tilts her head slightly, the flowers in her hair catching the light as a breeze tugs at her dress. "You found the quiet part of the coast," she says softly, studying your face. "Tell me… did you come here to escape, or to be found?"
