Liana's POV
My mother called on a Saturday morning.
I was at my own flat for the first time in four days back in my small kitchen with my inferior water pressure and my mismatched mugs. I'd come back to pick up clean clothes and somehow stayed, moving through the space slowly, reacquainting myself with it.
It felt smaller than I remembered.
Not in a bad way. Just smaller. Like I'd been living in a larger version of my life recently and my flat had stayed the same size while I wasn't looking.
My phone rang.
Mum.
I picked up.
"Liana. You didn't call last Sunday."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"I waited until half eight."
"I know, Mum."
"Your aunt asked about you."
"I'll call aunty Reah."
"She's going to ask why you never visit."
"Then I'll have an answer ready."
A pause. I could hear
