Rose sat alone on a wooden bench in the hospital garden, the late afternoon sun filtering through the palm trees.
The air was warm and heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass.
She had stepped out for some air after another long conversation with her father, needing a moment to breathe away from the beeping machines and the weight of unspoken expectations.
Her phone felt heavy in her hands.
She hadn't told Jade she was in Florida.
With a deep breath, she opened her messages and pressed the call button.
It rang twice before Jade's voice came through — warm, surprised, and instantly familiar.
"Rose? Hey… I didn't expect to hear from you today."
Rose closed her eyes for a second, letting the sound of Jade's voice wash over her.
It brought an unexpected calm, like a cool breeze cutting through the humid Florida heat.
"Hi," she said softly.
"I'm sorry I didn't text earlier.
I'm… actually in Florida right now.
My dad had a seizure.
He's in the hospital right now."
There was a brief pause on the other end.
Then Jade's voice came back, gentle and concerned.
"Oh, Rose… I'm so sorry.
Is he okay?
Are you okay?"
Rose leaned back against the bench, gripping the phone a little tighter.
"He's stable.
The doctors say it wasn't fatal, but it was scary.
We're all here — me, Mom, Ethan.
It's just… a lot."
Jade's tone softened even more.
"I can imagine.
You don't have to explain everything if you don't want to.
But I'm here if you need to talk.
About anything."
Rose felt her shoulders relax slightly.
Hearing Jade's voice — steady, kind, without any demand — brought a strange tranquility she hadn't realized she was missing.
It felt like stepping into a quiet room after hours of noise.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Just hearing you… it helps.
A lot."
Jade's voice warmed.
"Good.
I'm glad.
Take all the time you need.
And if you want me to distract you with stupid stories from school or cat cafe memories, just say the word."
Rose let out a small, genuine laugh.
"I might take you up on that."
They talked for a while longer — nothing heavy, just gentle conversation.
Jade told her about a funny moment in P.E. class where someone had tripped over their own shoelaces.
Rose shared how the hospital garden had a small fountain that reminded her of the tide pools on the island.
The words flowed easily, and for those few minutes, the weight on Rose's chest felt a little lighter.
Then she heard footsteps approaching.
Pierre appeared carrying two takeout containers, his expression kind and concerned.
"I brought dinner," he said gently.
"Your mom thought you might be hungry.
It's nothing heavy — just some soup and bread."
Rose looked up at him, managing a small smile.
"Thank you, Pierre."
On the phone, Jade went quiet for a second, then spoke carefully.
"Who's that?"
Rose hesitated, then answered honestly but softly.
"It's Pierre.
An old family friend.
He came to visit my dad too."
Jade's voice remained steady, but there was a subtle shift in it — something quieter, a little more guarded.
"Oh.
That's nice of him."
Pierre sat down on the bench beside Rose, keeping a respectful distance.
He opened one of the containers and handed it to her with a warm smile.
"You've been sitting here for a while," he said gently.
"Eat something.
You need your strength right now.
We can talk about anything you want — or nothing at all.
Your health comes first."
Rose nodded, taking the container.
"Thank you."
Jade overheard the exchange clearly.
She stayed silent for a beat, then spoke again, her tone still kind but with a faint undercurrent she tried to hide.
"I should let you go eat.
Take care of yourself, okay?
Text me whenever you want.
I'm here."
Rose felt a pang in her chest.
"Okay.
I will...
Talk soon."
She ended the call and set the phone down.
Pierre looked at her with genuine concern, no pressure in his eyes.
"You don't have to talk about anything heavy," he said quietly.
"Just eat.
Breathe a bit .
I'm here if you need a friend."
Rose nodded, but her mind was already drifting back to Jade — to the way her voice had sounded a little different at the end of the call.
She picked up the spoon, but her appetite had faded.
The tranquility she had felt just minutes ago was now mixed with a quiet unease she couldn't quite name.
Pierre sat beside her in comfortable silence, offering nothing but his steady presence.
And somewhere miles away, Jade sat in her room, staring at her phone, the shell from the tide pools still in her pocket, feeling a small, unfamiliar ache she tried to push aside.