The weekend was too quiet.
For most people, quiet meant peace. For Selena, it was dangerous. Quiet meant thinking. And thinking meant remembering.
No matter how many times she tried to distract herself washing dishes, rearranging the bookshelf, watering her plants her mind kept circling back.
Cassandra’s voice from earlier in the week still clung to her, sharp and cold.
"That’s why he’ll never really see you."
It wasn’t the words that hurt most. It was the way Cassandra had said them. Like a fact carved in stone. Like she wasn’t just predicting the future she was promising it.
Selena pressed her lips together and kept dusting the shelf. But under Cassandra’s voice, another memory pushed its way forward.
The one from the washroom.
The flicker of the light. The blur in the mi
