Emma Scott

Cursing at every red light while wanting to cry like a baby because I’d found her.

The song hit its crescendo and Kacey’s grip on my arm tightened. Her eyes grew soft and she watched the water dance, but I could look nowhere but at her. The show was at my periphery, a backdrop to her.

I held it up, letting the sun shine through the empty interior.

Not empty, I thought. It holds Jonah’s breath.