Lia woke with a heaviness she couldn’t shake. It wasn’t exhaustion. It wasn’t sadness. It was something deeper — a quiet weight pressing against her ribs, making it hard to breathe. She sat up slowly, staring at the soft morning light spilling across her room. Her notebook lay open on her desk, waiting. She didn’t touch it. She didn’t want to see the truth she wrote last night — that she was slipping, that she didn’t know how to hold on, that silence was becoming something she didn’t know how to break. She pressed a hand to her chest. Why does it feel like I’m losing myself? 🌤️ A Morning That Felt Like Pretending Not to Notice At the research building, her group was already gathered. Aria waved her over. “Lia! We’re polishing the final script today.” Mateo grinned. “We’re al

