S ome things don’t need to be said twice. Like the way Erin looked at me yesterday—not to ask, not to reassure, but just to say, with her presence alone: “I’m still here.” We weren’t holding hands. We weren’t even speaking. But something between us had shifted. Not because we had *fixed* anything—but because we […]
The Ones Who Break Things to Protect Them
Some questions don’t end with question marks. They just… echo. Last night, Erin told me a story. It wasn’t one of her usual kind. No hidden moral. No charming twist. Just a memory. “My father once smashed my favorite toy,” she said. “Because I kept choosing it over people.” I blinked. Waited. She wasn’t angry—just […]