“Not all of it,” Jesse said. His hand wrapped around hers and it was almost as before, back when they were young. Honeysuckle days, the air fragrant and heady. Jesse having gathered bunches of the wild flowers from the edge of the woods. Him in his T-shirt and cutoff jeans holding the bouquet to give her. The frizz of his Afro. His toothy grin. The two of them eating peaches, freshly bought. The sticky juice as it ran down her fingers, glistening her lips, and the taste of its sweet tang long after the twilight hour of their day’s end.

But Jesse had been right. He was not the boy she’d once known, not anymore. He was different and so was she, the past having haunted the arc of their lives, shaping who they had become. They needed to learn how to love not who they once thought each other to be, but who they were now. Before any of that could be possible though, she needed to finally tell him everything, all she’d seen, and she would begin with that first day they’d come here.

Up ahead, the gate waited for them, the metal glinting from the burgeoning morning light. As the sun crested along the horizon, its heat warmed her back. She turned to witness its gold glow filtering through the trees, ready to make the world anew.

Soon it would be morning, and those left behind would prepare for another day.