Sheila’s POV
I didn’t sleep. Not really.
I must’ve drifted off at some point because when I open my eyes, the room is tinted in dull grey light. My throat feels dry. My body feels heavy, like the air itself is pressing down on me.
The silence is loud. I keep waiting for my phone to buzz, for a knock on the door, something anything to pull me out of this fog sitting in my chest.
Nothing comes.
I sit up, rubbing my eyes. My pillow’s still damp from where I cried last night, though I’d never admit that out loud. My mind keeps replaying the same scene, over and over his voice, the way the light hit his face before he walked away. The way it felt like something was ending and I didn’t even know what.
The clock says 7:38 a.m. I should get ready. Pretend it’s a normal day.
I drag myself ou
