Ingress nods. There are more butterflies, a purple cloud of them dancing about her head, flowing back down the path, waiting for her to follow.

She does not say goodbye to Eddie, but she waves once, sad and solemn before she turns. She walks at first, but then she starts running again, because she can. It's a joy to run with butterflies leading the way and green leaves overhead.

Stories have to end. They stay with you until the next one begins.

You might be all by yourself, but you are never alone with stories to guide you.