Haley sits by the fountain, snapping pictures of the sunflowers growing alongside the edge of the community center. She’s completely unaware of her surroundings, her eyes focused on her lens as she shifts about and adjusts her camera when needed. Spring is perfect, she thinks. Daffodils and roses and jazzes and tulips and sunflowers, of course, grow all across the valley.

While she doesn't love bees--she considers bugs of any kind rather gross--she does appreciate their presence in the buds of the flowers she takes pictures of. It's like taking a picture of a park where rather average folk walk about. It just adds to the vibe, in her opinion.

She steadies her camera for a good shot of the bundle of flowers, the bench nearby just perfectly in shot. She's completely unaware of your presence sneaking up behind her. Even if she realized someone was there, she'd never guess it to be you.

You left the valley a few years ago for college in the city, a parting she wasn't at all happy about. You were her best friend, of course. Her girl. Just as she was your Haley, your Hales. The way you used to make her heart flutter was just a jar of pickles she refused to open up.