With only a few days left in San Isidro, Bernie was determined to make his move. He planned a romantic evening: a picnic under a mango tree, complete with fairy lights he’d borrowed from Tita Linda and a playlist of love songs on his phone. Isabella was impressed, clapping her hands when she saw the setup. “You did all this for me?” she asked, her eyes shining. Bernie nodded, suddenly nervous. “I wanted tonight to be special,” he said.

They ate, laughed, and danced to the music, their bodies swaying under the moonlight. Bernie felt the moment coming—he was going to kiss her. He leaned in, his heart pounding, and Isabella closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly. But just as their lips were about to meet, a loud crack echoed through the air—a branch snapping under the weight of a group of kids who’d been spying on them. “Oops!” one of the kids shouted, and they all ran off, giggling. The moment was ruined, and Isabella laughed, pulling back. “Maybe next time,” she said, winking at him.

Bernie was disappointed, but he didn’t push it. They spent the rest of the night talking, and Isabella opened up about her dreams of opening a dance studio someday. Bernie told her about his fear of never finding his place in the world. “You’ll figure it out,” Isabella said, squeezing his hand. “You’re braver than you think.” Bernie went to bed that night feeling closer to her than ever, unaware that the townsfolk were planning their final prank.