Vivienne’s room was dim, curtains half-drawn against the afternoon sun. Her phone glowed in her hand as she scrolled mindlessly, thumb moving without really seeing anything.

Her name still trended. Not loudly anymore. But quietly. Like a bruise that hadn’t healed.

The door creaked open.

“Vivienne?” her mother’s voice was gentle. Careful. “My dear… how are you doing?”

Vivienne didn’t look up.

Her mother stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “You’ve been very quiet these past few days. You’re not even arguing with anyone anymore.” She tried to smile. “That’s when I know something is wrong.”

Still nothing.

Her mother walked closer and sat beside her on the bed,...