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“Moonbeam!” A frantic voice shatters the silence.

Moonbeam…

That must be the little girl. The same one looking over her shoulder at me. Her eyes find mine one last time.

For a heartbeat...I forget how to breathe.

“Be a jellyfish,” she says quietly. “The world isn’t for the weak.”

With that, she turns and walks away.

And just like that…she’s gone.

She disappears from view so quickly that part of me wonders if I’ve dreamed the whole thing. But the weight of the coat draped over my arm is real. The shoes in my hand are real.

And the warmth she’s left behind…that feels real too.

I look up at the moon.

Still cold.

Still beautiful.

Still just out of reach.

Honey-colored eyes.

White hair.

Silver shoes.

I should’ve forgotten her as soon as the night swallowed me whole.

She was just a strange little rich girl. Someone I’d never see again.

Instead…she became the only beautiful thing I can remember from one of the ugliest nights of my life.

That night didn’t end when she walked away.

It ended with something I’d buried long ago stirring quietly back to life.

Hope.

Small.

Fragile.

Terrifying.

And for the first time since Ma died, I found myself wondering if something gentle could survive in a world so determined to destroy it.

Looking back now...I think that was the first time I ever fell in love.

I just didn’t know it yet.

Not the kind of love people write songs and romance books about. Not even the kind that keeps you awake at night wondering if she feels the same.

It was something quieter and sweeter.