The morning after her visit to the gallery, Evelyn found herself knee-deep in the task of revamping her grandmother's cottage. The house had always been a quiet retreat, but years of neglect had left it in a state of disrepair. Dusty shelves, creaking floors, and faded wallpaper—all reminders of a life Evelyn had almost forgotten.
As she worked her way through the cottage, clearing out the clutter, she stumbled upon an old chest hidden beneath the stairs. It was worn with age, the wood scratched and weathered, but it was surprisingly light. Curious, she opened it to find a collection of old sketchbooks, journals, and photographs—fragments of her childhood, neatly preserved.
Each page she turned seemed to come alive with memories. There were sketches of the cliffs and the sea, her small fingers capturing the beauty of Seraphine Bay in the simplest lines. Some pages were filled with childish doodles, others with her teenage dreams of becoming an artist, a dream that had seemed so distant when she left years ago.
One photograph caught her attention—a picture of her and Callum, taken during a summer festival. They were both grinning, arms draped around each other, surrounded by the other kids of the town. Callum had always been the one to make her laugh, his mischievous smile infectious. But the photo reminded her of the distance that had grown between them, a distance she wasn't sure could be bridged.
Sighing, Evelyn closed the chest and placed it back where she had found it. The memories were bittersweet, beautiful but painful.
Later that evening, Amelia knocked on the door, her bright smile lighting up the otherwise quiet space. "Eve, we're having a stargazing event tonight down by the cliffs. I know you used to love it when we were kids. It'll be a good way to clear your head."
Evelyn hesitated, her gaze drifting toward the window where the sky was beginning to darken. "I don't know, Amelia. I've got a lot of work to do around here."
Amelia rolled her eyes. "Come on, you need a break. Besides, it's tradition. The whole town will be there. You wouldn't want to miss the shooting stars, would you?"
Evelyn thought for a moment, then relented. The idea of spending the evening under the stars, away from the weight of memories and the cottage's renovation, seemed too good to pass up.
As she walked toward the cliffs that evening, the sky was a canvas of deep purples and blues, the first stars beginning to twinkle above. The gathering was small, the town's residents spread out on blankets, chatting in hushed voices as they awaited the appearance of shooting stars.
The air was crisp, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the scent of wildflowers that dotted the cliffs. Amelia was sitting on a blanket with a thermos of hot chocolate, waving enthusiastically when she spotted Evelyn.
"I'm so glad you came," she said, patting the empty space beside her.
Evelyn smiled and sat down. "I didn't want to be the only one missing out on the stars."
Around them, the town buzzed with its usual charm. A few children ran around, pointing at constellations they couldn't name, and some of the older residents spoke in soft voices, recounting old superstitions about the stars.
"You know," Amelia said with a sly grin, "they say that if you make a wish on a shooting star, it'll come true. I've been wishing for something all my life. A little luck, maybe."
Evelyn chuckled, her gaze drifting upward as the first shooting star streaked across the sky. She couldn't help but make a wish, though she wasn't sure what it was anymore. Perhaps just for peace of mind.
As they lay back to watch the stars, Evelyn's thoughts began to wander. The soft murmur of voices around her and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air, but there was one voice that cut through the noise.
It was Callum's.
Evelyn looked up to find him standing near a group of children, pointing toward the sky and explaining the constellations in a way that made them come alive. His voice, always steady, seemed to hold the children's rapt attention, and for a moment, Evelyn watched him with a sense of awe.
He had always been so good with people, especially kids. She could remember how they used to spend hours by the cliffs, discussing the stars and making up stories about the constellations. She had loved those nights—those nights when it felt like the whole world was theirs.
Without thinking, Evelyn stood up and walked over to the group.
Callum noticed her approach and gave her a small, almost hesitant smile. "Evelyn," he said, his tone warm but cautious. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I didn't want to miss the stars," she replied, looking up at the sky.
He nodded, his gaze following hers. "They always made me feel like anything was possible," he said quietly. "Even now, I still think about those nights we used to spend out here."
Evelyn smiled softly. "Me too."
The group of children, sensing the shift in the conversation, scattered to chase after another shooting star. Callum and Evelyn were left standing together, a comfortable silence settling between them.
Finally, Evelyn spoke. "I didn't know you were into astronomy."
Callum shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "It's something I picked up recently. I like the idea that the stars have been here long before us and will be here long after. Makes you feel small in a way that's… comforting."
She looked at him, surprised by the softness in his words. He had always been so grounded, so certain about everything in life, but now there was a quiet vulnerability in him she hadn't seen before.
"What else have you been up to?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Callum hesitated for a moment, his gaze turning to the horizon. "I've been studying the marine life around here," he said, his voice lowering slightly. "There's been a strange decline in the local population. I think something's wrong, but I haven't been able to pinpoint it yet. It's been keeping me busy."
Evelyn frowned, concern creeping into her chest. "That doesn't sound good."
"It's not," he agreed, his tone somber. "But I'm not sure what's causing it yet. Just one of those things we'll have to figure out."
For a moment, their eyes met, and Evelyn saw something unspoken between them—something raw, something fragile. But before she could say anything more, Callum turned away, as though pulling himself back from whatever had been creeping into the conversation.
"I should get back to the kids," he said, his tone shifting to something more neutral.
Evelyn nodded, her heart sinking slightly. "Yeah. I'll see you around, Callum."
He gave her a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "See you around."
As she walked back to her blanket, the stars above seemed to shine just a little brighter, as if echoing the shift in the air between her and Callum. Maybe the past wasn't as far behind as she had hoped, but perhaps, just perhaps, there was still a way forward.