THE DISTANCE BETWEEN ** The morning air hung like a held breath—thick, unsaid, uncertain. Amara barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Kai’s face. Heard his voice again: "I love you, Amara." And her voice, cold and afraid, telling him to go. She hadn't meant to push him away. But she had. And now, even the air in the apartment felt different—like the warmth between them had thinned into something unsteady, taut, and waiting to snap. She stepped into the living room. Ethan was on the couch, controller in hand, but the game was paused—just a frozen screen of players mid-action. Kai stood by the window, sipping coffee, eyes fixed on the skyline like it could explain why hearts got broken even when people tried to protect each other. Amara lingered in the doorway. “Hey

