The sun had begun its descent when Valerie found herself in the kitchen again, standing in front of the open fridge, staring at its contents with a sense of indecision. She wasn’t hungry. Not really. But there was something about the motion of opening and closing doors, about the low hum of the refrigerator, that felt familiar. Grounding, even.
It had been a quiet day. A good day, maybe. But quiet nonetheless. There was peace in it, and it felt like a rare commodity these days. The kind of peace you could almost touch—fragile, delicate—but still there.
“Can you stop staring at the fridge like it’s a puzzle you’re trying to solve?” Laura’s voice broke through her thoughts, light and teasing as usual. Valerie turned, finding her friend leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching
