Her silhouette next to the sunset is the perfect image. But at the wrong time. She doesn’t speak. The only part of her that moves is her feet, slowly dragging along the dock. Alyssa follows but I pull her back.

“She needs space.” I tell her. Alyssa looks at her concerned and then sighs.

“Okay.”

She sits at the edge of the dock, wondering why this drama and heartache is attracted to her. She toys with her fingernails and her feet are tickled by the water. She tries to laugh, but the tears overpower her weak smile. The orange sun disappears into the ombre water. It looks as if she holds the very sun in her hands, but she gives it away-it is too much in this state of mind.