Jennifer’s heart hammered, a rhythm that seemed to echo the fire’s own crackle. She turned her head, pressing her forehead against Camila’s. The contact was electric, a spark that made her knees feel weak. “I’ve spent so long being the one who’s… needed,” she whispered, “that I forgot what it feels like to be needed.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, voice barely audible over the lapping water. “For trusting me.”

“Sit,” she whispered, patting the bench. “Just… be.”