“You didn’t.”
That was a lie, but not one Jen deserved to carry.
She slipped her phone into her bag.
“My sister’s never going to believe me.”
“You have photographic evidence.”
“She’ll think it’s AI.”
“That’s difficult competition.”
Jen laughed.
Then she hugged me.
The movement was sudden, but years of meet-and-greets had trained my body to accept unexpected affection from strangers without dropping anything important.
I hugged her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“The songs.”
Those two words reached somewhere the smile did not cover.
“You’re welcome.”
She stepped away, eyes bright.
“I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
I nodded.
“Enjoy your trip.”
“You too.”
Jen walked quickly toward the far end of the market, glancing back once before disappearing behind a stall selling painted signs.
The second she was gone, my smile fell.
Not dramatically.
It simply stopped being necessary.
Ellie still had not moved.
A vendor nearby called out the price of handmade soap. A child dropped a lemonade and began negotiating with gravity. A boat horn sounded from the marina.
Normal life continued with offensive confidence.
I turned toward Ellie.
“Ellie.”
