New York City | Thursday Evening | Violet’s Apartment

The city hadn’t stopped raining since the day of the hearing.

Each drop that slid down Violet’s window sounded like a whisper from the past — soft, relentless, impossible to ignore.

Her apartment still carried faint traces of the chaos that followed: news clippings scattered across the coffee table, half-folded blankets, medical files she hadn’t yet brought herself to organize.

But tonight, it was silent. The kind of silence that wasn’t peace… but the absence of noise after too much truth had been spoken.

Bryan had been sleeping on the couch for the past three nights.

Not because she asked him...