The morning sky looked gloomy, though the sun had already risen high. Vania stood before the mirror, straightening her hair with trembling hands. The navy-blue blazer she wore felt heavier than usual, as if the fabric itself carried the crushing weight of gossip that suffocated her life.

Behind her, Arga entered with a tense expression.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

Vania turned, her eyes filled with determination though unease lingered behind them.

“If I keep silent, the rumors will only grow louder. They need to know I am not just a shadow.”

Arga stepped closer, resting his hand on her...