EVE
Emma's apartment still smelled like vanilla candles and leftover pizza, that cozy kind of mess that somehow felt like home. The second we stepped inside and she locked the door behind us, I felt my shoulders drop for the first time all day. Safety. That's what this place had always been for me—safe.
"You want tea or something stronger?" she asked, tossing her bag onto the couch.
"Stronger," I said immediately, sinking into the armchair like my body couldn't hold itself up anymore. My voice cracked on that single word, carrying everything I'd been holding back—shame, fear, exhaustion, all tangled together.
Emma's eyes narrowed. "Okay, what the hell happened? You look like you've been hit by a truck."
I let out a shaky breath. "It's worse than that."
She didn't argue
