Eva gazed down the path as it vanished into the pale haze. She lifted her hand and slowly traced the shape of a cloud—an ear, a shoulder, a paw. Her movements were deliberate, like she was remembering something the rest of the world had forgotten.
She felt Perry’s eyes on her—not on the sky, but the movement of her hand. She didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. But part of her wanted to ask what he saw. It wasn’t just a cloud. She was tracing a constellation from memory.
She started with the tail and traced along its back. The way it curled over the sunlit clouds was strangely familiar.
“Do you see the Bear?” she asked, eyes still on the sky.
He followed the motion of her hand until he found it too—and smiled. “I do,” he said. “Let’s walk, dearest.”
They moved together, their steps soft along the path. She listened to the hush of his footsteps falling in rhythm with hers. Or maybe hers had fallen into step with his. It didn’t matter.
Their sleeves brushed with every stride.
Footstep. Sleeve.
Footstep. Sleeve.
The birds sang in the hedges nearby, and above them, the Bear walked too—silent, high, and watchful.
Eva tilted her head back, letting the sun chase away the chill the Slough had left on her skin. She brushed at the dirt flaking from her sleeves, but it clung stubbornly. The scent of the mire still lingered in the folds of her clothes.
When the wind shifted, it carried the stench back to her. She shivered.
Perry offered his arm. She didn’t hesitate. She took it. The closeness felt right.
Then—there they were. She saw them first: a scatter of wild irises, blue and gold, nestled beneath the boughs of an old olive tree.
She laughed.
Not carefully. Not for him. Just laughter—sudden and free, like something inside her had finally remembered how.
When Perry turned, she was already reaching for him. Not for support. Not for comfort. Just—to share it. He took her hand. Said nothing. Didn’t squeeze. He simply stood beside her, watching the wind stir the blossoms—like they’d been waiting all morning for someone to notice them.
I’m not carrying the Slough anymore, she thought. And for the first time, it was true.
