"You guys are together, right?"
Those were the first four words Fiona, Clara's mother, said to her after not hearing from her for weeks. Clara had expected her to care about her more, to ask about her well-being, but instead, she went straight to ask the question that bothered her most. This was exactly why Clara feared calling her.
Clara folded her fists. She prepared the words in her head, each one sharp and charged. She was seconds away from leaning into yet another argument with the very person she had called for help. Her lips parted, ready to spit out all her pent-up frustration—but something stopped her. A silent whisper of reason. She exhaled, but her jaw remained locked. She decided to let it go.
“It’s not about him,” Clara muttered into the phone, her voice lower now. “That’s
