The next day passed in strange quiet.
Amelia barely spoke. Nora didn’t push. She gave her space — just enough to think, just enough to feel — but always close enough to anchor her.
By the time evening came, the sky had turned a moody grey, and the first drops of rain began to patter against the balcony glass. It matched Amelia’s mood — not heavy enough to drown, but enough to stir everything just below the surface.
She sat at the dining table, coffee untouched, fingers tapping the side of her mug, phone in her lap.
She hadn't reached out.
Not yet.
But she knew he was nearby. Somewhere in Tokyo. Close enough to find if she looked. And she hated how her skin tingled at the thought.
“Go,” Nora said gently from the kitchen. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight. But if you need to
