Liora
Mia didn’t ask questions, and maybe that’s what made her company feel like a relief instead of another reminder. She didn’t press.
I liked that about her.
She didn’t fill the silence with nervous chatter or hollow sympathy. She simply stayed nearby, existing beside me with a kind of calm that wrapped around my raw edges like a soft blanket. Her presence was quiet, but never distant. Warm, but never invasive.
She sat by the windowsill, her legs folded beneath her, textbook balanced on her knees as she read in the breeze. The sound of her pencil scratching gently against the notebook paper helped me breathe.
I didn’t realize how much I needed that.
After everything that had happened, after the look in Callum’s eyes, the sound of his voice so void of meaning, I had expected the
