CLAIRE
Lila had always been particular.
She labeled food containers with dates, arranged the spice rack alphabetically, and replaced lightbulbs before they burned out. Living with her had been easy because predictability was comforting, especially after long shifts and emotionally heavy days.
That was why the change stood out immediately.
At first, it was subtle. She missed jokes she would normally catch, snapped more quickly than usual, and checked the windows far more often than necessary. None of it meant much on its own, but patterns did not need to announce themselves to exist.
They only needed repetition.
I noticed it clearly for the first time late one evening, three days after the incident in the forest. I came home exhausted, my thoughts still circling things I
