The café door closed softly behind them as Amelia and Iris stepped back into the quiet street. The air outside felt cooler now, calmer, as if the world itself had lowered its voice out of respect for the secrets that had just been exhaled.
They walked side by side without rushing. Iris held her coffee cup with both hands, even though it was already empty. Her shoulders were still slightly tense, her thoughts likely circling the truth she had finally let out—words she had carried alone for far too long. Amelia stayed close. She didn't speak; she didn't push. She was simply a presence, a steady shadow against the
morning sun. Sometimes, that was the loudest form of support.
When they reached the apartment building, the familiar sight of home felt different—warmer, safer, like the walls
