Ch. 12: A Door Left Open

There were things Sophia had learned never to say aloud, and most of them were about she.

The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.

There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. "You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen." "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen."

The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Sophia said. "I'm asking you to listen."

Outside, the world went on as if nothing had shifted. Inside, everything had.

The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. "You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.