Vivian hadn’t planned on leaving the house.
The day had started like the others—quiet, stretched thin, with too much time and nothing she really wanted to do with it. She moved through it anyway, from one room to another, touching things absently, straightening what didn’t need to be straightened, until even that began to feel pointless.
By afternoon, the silence had settled too deeply.
She stood in front of her wardrobe longer than necessary, her fingers brushing past fabrics without really seeing them, until they stopped on a dress tucked slightly to the side.
Deep blue.
She pulled it out slowly.
The fabric caught the light as she held it up, soft but rich, the kind of color that didn’t beg to be noticed but stayed when you looked at it. When she slipped it on, it sat easily agains
