Choosing a New Path

The morning light crept through the trees like a hesitant visitor, casting long shadows across the camp. Taye had not slept. He sat on a fallen log near the edge of the clearing, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun began to bleed into the sky. The air was cool, heavy with dew and the scent of damp earth. He heard the soft rustle of someone approaching but did not turn.

“You’re up early,” Christine said, her voice gentle. She settled beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her. She held a tin cup of steaming tea and offered it to him.

He took it, letting the warmth seep into his palms. “Couldn’t sleep.”