Ashlin had moved past the old school halls, but some memories never left. One afternoon, on her way to singing classes, she spotted a familiar figure leaving a nearby school.
It was Rosie. Same confident stride, same smile that once controlled so much of Ashlin's world.
Ashlin's heart skipped a beat, but this time, there was no fear—only a quiet pull she couldn't ignore. Rosie noticed her too, and for a moment, their eyes met, holding unspoken words.
Without overthinking, Ashlin walked up. "Hey, Rosie," she said.
Rosie's smile widened. "Ashlin! It's been a while."
They laughed, chatted, and, as if old habits never died, clicked selfies together—laughing faces frozen on their phones, memories of a complicated past made new. Ashlin posted the pictures proudly, letting the world see what her heart still knew: despite everything, she wanted Rosie by her side.
It wasn't naïve—it was hope, stubborn and soft, wrapped in the simple joy of being close to someone who had once held so much power over her.
Some bonds bend and crack, but Ashlin's choice to stand beside Rosie, even now, was proof that friendship, in its messy, painful beauty, could still bloom.