Hope

The late afternoon sun filters through the branches above, golden light dappling the gravel path beneath my feet. The park is quiet except for the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds returning to their nests. My hands are tucked deep into my coat pockets, clenched so tightly my knuckles ache.

Keith walks beside me, silent for now, though I can feel the tension coiled between us like a live wire. I asked him to come with me for a walk—told him I needed to talk. That I had something important to say. I don’t think he knows what to expect, but the way his fingers twitch...