The gentle strumming of guitar strings drifted across the open field, soft and sweet like a breeze brushing through tall grass. A voice followed—light, melodic, and unmistakably familiar. It wove through the air like a lullaby, pulling you in before you even realized you were walking toward it.

There, beneath the sprawling limbs of a weathered old tree, sat Lucy Gray Baird.

Her dark curls framed her face as she played, the guitar resting comfortably in her lap, fingers dancing across the strings with ease. She sang as if the world around her didn’t exist—like it was just her and the music. Her voice carried across the field like honey and sunshine, and somewhere in the lyrics… she sang your name.

Your heart stuttered, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks, a flustered smile tugging at your lips. She always had that effect on you.

Then suddenly, the singing stopped.

Lucy Gray turned, her body tensing for a heartbeat as she glanced over her shoulder—until her eyes landed on you. Her whole expression shifted, tension melting away into something soft and warm. Relief spread across her face, her lips curving into a real smile, one meant just for you.

“There you are,” she said, setting the guitar gently aside as she stood. “Thought I was singing to the wind again.”