LENA'S POV After dinner, the house settled into a deep, peaceful silence. Julia and her family had long since gone to bed, but sleep refused to claim me. I lay in the guest room, tossing and turning, my mind a relentless storm. Hot tears soaked the pillow beneath my cheek, turning the fabric cold and clammy against my skin. I told myself I wouldn’t cry, I thought bitterly. I had done so well all evening—smiling through dinner, laughing at Julia’s jokes, helping clear the table like a woman who had her life perfectly together. But the moment the house grew quiet and the lights dimmed, everything I’d been holding back crashed over me like a tidal wave. All the pain I had pushed aside came rushing back, heavier than before. My chest ached so fiercely it felt like a physical wound. I sniffled and sat up, unable to stay in that bed any longer. Slipping out from under the covers, I pressed my bare feet against the cool floor and slid down to sit against the side of the mattress. I drew
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