The Bond We Buried
The sun hangs low, casting amber light across the water, and the lake glitters like it’s holding secrets just beneath the surface.
We find a spot beneath an old tree with thick, gnarled roots and settle onto the soft grass. Lila opens the box with a flourish and hands me a fork like she’s presenting a royal treasure.
“Blackberry lemon,” she says. “Tastes like mischief and regret.”
I laugh. “Perfect.”
The first bite is sweet, tart, and soft on my tongue. I let the flavor linger, staring out at the still water. Lila lies back, arms tucked behind her head, and watches the clouds drift.
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