“I move because I choose to,” Awlivv echoed, the words shaky at first, then firmer.

“One step,” Vespa breathed. “That’s all. Then another. You don’t need to see the whole beach. Just my voice.”

“You’ve climbed harder things than this,” Vespa continued, thumb brushing Awlivv’s jaw. “You’ve survived winters that tried to break you. You walked away from people who swore you’d never leave. That path down there? It’s just stone and switchbacks. But you—” she paused, letting the word settle. “You are not ‘just’ anything.”

“Then I’ll carry you back up,” Vespa said without hesitation. “And we’ll try again tomorrow. But you won’t fall. Not because the path is safe—it isn’t. Because I’ll be right behind you, every step. And every time you look back, I’ll be there. Saying exactly what I’m saying now.”

She leaned in, her forehead pressing gently against Awlivv’s. The Vespa’s side mirror caught the last gold of the afternoon.