It was a cold Wednesday morning. 

Nadia sat with her chin resting in her palm, her fork tracing aimless patterns in her scrambled eggs. The steam had long since stopped rising from the plate. 

"Nadia? Water, please," Estelle said softly. 

Nadia didn't blink or respond. She was staring at a water stain on the wall, her mind miles away indeep thoughts. 

"Nadia?" Estelle said, her voice rising. "Nadia!" 

Nadia jerked, her fork clattering against the ceramic. 

She blinked rapidly, her eyes focusing on her mother’s concerned face. "What? Sorry, Mom. What doyou need?" 

"I’m literally sitting right in front of you, and for good five minutes, you cannot even hear...