Silence had changed its shape.

It used to be a shield.

Then it became a weapon.

Now it was something else entirely.

A mirror.

And Amara wasn’t sure she liked what it reflected.

The morning arrived gently, like it didn’t want to disturb anything.

Soft light filtered through the curtains, stretching across the floor in pale gold lines. The city outside was already awake, but inside her apartment, everything felt suspended — not peaceful, just paused.

Amara sat at the edge of her bed longer than usual.

Not tired.

Not restless.

Just… aware.

Of herself.

Of time.

Of the strange quiet that had settled into her life like a guest...