Alena

“Alena,” a soft voice says, laced with a warmth that feels like sunlight piercing through the canopy of leaves. It’s Lysa, my closest confidant, whose presence has always been a beacon in my darkest hours. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I remain silent, my eyes fixed on the ground, unwilling to meet the gaze of my friend. I feel Lysa sit beside me; the log creaking under our shared weight, the sound grounding me to the moment.

“Talk to me,” Lysa urges ...