The nights stretched longer now.
Or maybe it just felt that way, like time was molasses and I was the one sinking in it.
Sleep didn’t come easily, not even when exhaustion tied itself around my limbs like lead. When it did come, it came with dreams that weren’t dreams at all. Just flickers. Smoke. Heat. Screams muffled behind glass. A door that wouldn’t open. Me...holding a cupcake tray and watching the oven catch fire.
I woke up with sweat in my hair and a scream stuck in my throat.
Always silent.
Always too late.
And in the stillness that followed, I’d reach instinctively for my phone.
Not to call anyone.
Just to… hold it.
Scroll.
Flick past useless emails. News alerts. Denials from grants and aid programs that read like corporate apologies. Until my finger hovered over one con
