SOFIA
I left the room without saying anything else. It wasn't because there was nothing left to say, but because anything I voiced would have come out wrong. The hallway felt longer than usual not physically, just stretched, as if the space between where I had been and where I was going had widened without warning.
You were never random.
The words wouldn’t sit. They moved, repeated, and rearranged themselves into meanings that refused to settle. I kept walking past the turn, the staircase, and the points where someone usually appeared to redirect me. No one did. That was worse. It meant I wasn't the focus right now or I was, but in a way that didn't require monitoring.
I reached my room and pushed the door open harder than necessary. It hit the wall with a dull sound that didn’t belong
