ad happened in pieces-small, quiet ones t

a sketchbook always half-closed, as if her drawings were secrets not meant for light. She hadn't spo

wn, yet somehow she'd b

ocked out the power. She'd been the only customer left in the dim bar, sketching by candlel

g," he'd said, catching a glim

ied. "I just see it d

, somethin

er. He learned she loved the ocean but hated swimming. She learned he was never meant to be a ba

skies. Just time. Long walks down fogged-over boardwalks. Afternoons sitting on Arthur's p

ut his family, but

briefly. He'd passed through the bar one evening, surprising Arthur with a visit. Their conversation had been cal

ut it had f

collapsed-settled. The restless edge he carried had dulled around her presence. Sh

ad been in Arthur's back pocket from fixing a loose sign earlier that day. They'd laughe

eping a toothbru

ore his alarm just to lie

begun to feel

l away, not physically, but in her eyes. Like her thoughts were some

that was h

silence the secrets people carried when the

te at the diner just off Harbor Road. The place smelled of syrup a

via said, nudging her with a know

her smile behind a c

itney chimed in, eyes wide with

ething," Kel

rd, curious. "Does h

Olivia

smiled in

when Kelly stared out the window, her fingers absently tracing the

w. A he

nothing

ey rem