Maria:
Noah texts me first.
That alone feels strange.
I am at the clinic when it happens, halfway through writing notes I will probably rewrite later anyway. The day has been steady. Predictable. Exactly what I needed after everything.
My phone buzzes once against the table. I glance at it without thinking.
Noah: Can we talk?
I stare at the message longer than I should.
Not because I don’t understand it. Just because… I wasn’t expecting it. Not after the silence. Not after my birthday. Not after our last phone call. Not after the way everything just… stopped.
For a second, I consider not replying.
I could ignore it. Let it sit. Let it fade the way everything else has been fading.
But I don’t.
I type back before I overthink it.
Where?
His reply comes almost immediately.
The p
