ORLANDA sat cross legged on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the soft fabric of the comforter as if it could steady the storm brewing inside her. She sniffled quietly, her chest rising and falling unevenly with each shallow breath. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a faint halo around her, but she paid no attention to it.

A low whimper escaped her lips, surprising even herself. Anger? Sadness? She didn't know what she was feeling. All she knew was that it hurt, something deep and raw, like an invisible wound she hadn't seen coming.

Moments earlier, she had overheard the...