By the time I get home, the sky is already starting to dim.
Soft purple light stretches across everything, washing the neighborhood in that strange kind of calm that only exists right before night fully settles in. It makes the world look lighter somehow. Simpler.
Like nothing’s changed.
Like I didn’t almost lose control in the middle of a crowded cafeteria.
Like I’m still just me.
I know better.
The house is quiet when I step inside.
Too quiet.
I drop my bag by the door, and the sound echoes louder than it should through the hallway. Something in my chest tightens immediately.
“I’m home.”
“In the kitchen,” my aunt calls back, her voice sharp and steady—completely unchanged.
I hesitate for half a second before heading in, already bracing myself for the normalcy of it all. The ro
