She squeals a little as she lifts one foot tentatively off the rock. At the last minute, she changes her mind and scurries backward to safety.
She’s scared, but her face is alive with anticipation. All the melancholy that clung to her features has disappeared. This is the real Isla. The one hiding behind a mask of fear and insecurity.
She just needed permission. Permission to be reckless, to be fearless, to be loud. To be brave.
She snaps her attention towards me, caught by my somberness. For a moment, she looks nervous, as though I’m going to turn the tables on her and tell her she shouldn’t be doing this at all. Like it was a big test and she failed it.
“I’ll always come back,” I promise. “No matter where I go. No matter how far. I will always, always come back to you. You’ll never b
