Summer was there and so was the end of the school year. 

Freedom tasted like cotton candy shared on the way to the park.

 It sounded like shared laughs and smiles. Its smell was peculiar yet stubborn with a sweet aftertaste.

Lydia sat on a bench watching toddlers play and run around. 

She smiled because it was the last time she would come here. A new beginning awaited. 

Ola did not come, preferring to start packing their belongings. Lydia wandered around the neighborhood and ended her journey on the same bench that heard and witnessed many fragile moments.

“Markless,”

Lydia frowned looking up to find Byron standing there, tall, handsome,...