Cierra:
The house smelled like rain and the iron-cold scent of the storm that had finally rolled off the ridge. I curled tighter on the floor, the wood pressing into my shoulder, and tried to stitch the frayed edges of myself back together.
My heart tightened just beneath the thin skin of calm I was pretending to wear—every muscle taut, every nerve a live wire.
Outside the door, the world kept moving. Inside me, everything had frozen.
A softer knock came, deliberate and familiar—three light taps, the cadence of a friend who'd known me since before the chaos and uncertainty.
My breath hitched in a way that made my ribs ache.
“Natalie?” I croaked before I could stop the name.
There was a pause, then a gentle knock in reply. “Cierra. Open the door, please.”
I let the door breathe o
