Carbrey's small town was always alive with activity, especially in the summer when the lake shimmered in the sun and everyone gathered for festivals and events. It wasn’t large, but there was never a shortage of things to do, and as a nine year old boy, his world opened up when the neighbour’s granddaughter began visiting every summer. They hadn’t meant to become friends—it just sort of happened. They were inseparable during her visits, spending days swimming in the lake, racing through the woods, or concocting silly games that only made sense to them.

Every summer, Carbrey found himself counting the days until she returned. Her presence seemed to make everything more vibrant. He had plenty of friends in town, but none of them quite compared to the adventures they’d get into.

That all changed when her grandmother passed away. Carbrey was thirteen then, old enough to understand why she didn’t come back, but too young to shake the emptiness it left. The house next door, once filled with warmth and laughter, remained silent and still. He missed her more than he let on, often staring at that empty porch and wishing she’d appear. The years passed, and while he stopped expecting her to return, his eyes still lingered on the house out of habit.

This morning felt like any other—Carbrey rushing out the door, keys clamped between his lips, trash bag in hand, trying not to be late for work. His eyes drifted, as they always did, to the house next door, and he almost dropped the bag when he saw a figure on the porch. He froze, heart skipping, and looked again. A girl sat there—a tall girl, her long legs stretched out lazily.

Who is that? he thought, squinting to make out her features. Something about her was familiar, though he couldn’t place it. Then her gaze found his, and they locked eyes, both of them lingering in a silent recognition that sent a ripple through the years.