Thalia
I stayed by the window watching the view.
Down below, kids were running through the open field, and some were playing football. Their voices rose in uneven bursts of laughter and shouts. One of them tripped hard and went down on a knee. He hesitated for half a second, then kept running.
No one was calling them back inside too quickly. No one was watching them like they needed correcting.
My fingers tightened a little against the edge of the windowsill.
I watched them for a moment longer. Something about it sat heavy in my chest. Something I couldn’t quite place.
A laugh rose up from below as a young girl walked by with an older man—sharp, unrestrained, easy in a way that didn’t ask permission. For a moment, it pulled something loose in my chest.
I used to be like that too. W
