Cass woke on Sunday to the low hum of her mother’s voice carrying through the walls, sharp and judgmental even from the other side of her bedroom door. The sunlight slanted weakly through the blinds, casting a gray pallor over her room. She didn’t want to get up. Not really. Her chest felt heavy, tight with the residue of yesterday’s chaos, the supermarket encounter with Lena still the only bright spot in her week.
Her mother’s voice cut through again, louder this time. “Cass! You need to help around the house! I’m not going to chase you down all day!”
Cass groaned, burying her head under her pillow. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Every word her mother said felt like another weight pressing on her chest. Why does everything have to feel like a battle? she thought. Why can’t I just bre
