Time, it turned out, didn’t heal all wounds but it certainly taught you how to sit with them.
Sophia spent five days longer in a healing ward. She had been feeling the best of these sore injuries and that she was now out of serious danger, but still the ache remained near her heart, just under the edge of her ribs, as though it were an outgrown memory written in the bone.
Even the body pain did not bother her. She didn’t mind the physical pain.
It was the silence that she hated.
Not the silence of her room. That was fine. She had chosen it.
But the silence from within the empty, echoing ache between who she’d been before the crash and who she was trying to become.
The woman who had walked out of her engagement.
The woman who had told off a former lover without flinching.
The woman
