Morning came faster than I expected, and last night's sleep was probably the best I'd had in weeks.
Even though I went to bed late, I woke up feeling oddly refreshed.
I silenced my screaming alarm and headed to the bathroom. As I squeezed toothpaste onto my brush, I glanced at the mirror—and for once, flashed a beautiful smile. A rare thing.
After brushing, I schooled my face back into its usual blankness and made my way downstairs for a cup of morning coffee.
Barefoot, I padded through the hallway and down the stairs, expressionless.
But I froze at the kitchen door.
The laughter I hadn't heard until that moment stopped cold. The doorknob was still in my hand as two pairs of eyes locked on me.
What was he doing here so early?
I rolled my eyes inwardly. There sat Reggie at the kitchen island—phone in one hand, spoon in the other, a half-finished bowl of cereal in front of him.
He stared at me. Then his eyes dropped lower, scanning me—and quickly darted away. Embarrassed?
That's when it hit me.
Damn. I was half-naked.
"Good morning, honey. Here's your coffee—and you have a... guest," Mira said sweetly, her eyes trailing me from head to toe before flicking to Reggie with a knowing smile.
He suddenly found his cereal very interesting.
"Good morning, Mira. Good morning, Reginald," I said stiffly, grabbing my coffee and retreating before anyone could say anything else.
Awkward.
I drank my coffee in my room, picking out clothes for the day. After grooming my hair and tying it up with a bonnet, I took a shower, got dressed, and checked the time—8:15 a.m. I still had time.
I tidied up my room and headed downstairs, empty coffee cup and saucer in hand.
Mira and Reggie were chatting about a concert coming to town. I ignored them and focused on the plate already served for me: hot, spicy noodles with a sunny-side-up egg on top. I ate in silence while they continued talking, not acknowledging me. Not that I minded.
"There's food in the freezer, honey. Just warm it when you get back from school, okay? Are you sure you'll be fine tonight? I might not make it home," Mira said as she walked us to Reggie's car.
"I'll be just fine," I replied.
"Alright. Be safe," she said with a smile, shutting the car door.
Then she turned to Reggie. "Watch her for me, okay? Drive safe."
I was in the passenger seat of Reggie's sleek sports coupe.
Made me wonder—why did he need a ride home yesterday if he could drive himself?
Not my problem.
"So… missed me?" he asked, gripping the steering wheel and speeding out of the estate.
"No."
"You're lying again."
"Don't flatter yourself."
He laughed. "Alright, Ice Queen."
The rest of the drive was quiet, except for his hums and gentle taps against the steering wheel.
The world always felt quieter around him—not in a peaceful way, but in a way that made it easier to forget the things I wasn't supposed to forget.
At school, Nia caught up with me, her chatter as relentless as ever—but her eyes studied me too closely.
"You okay?" she asked at our lockers.
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
I smiled. "Yeah. Just didn't sleep well."
Lie. I did.
She nodded slowly, unconvinced.
People were starting to notice the cracks.
Classes passed in a haze. I went through the motions—smiling when I had to, answering questions just enough to avoid suspicion. But I felt detached, like I was watching my own life from outside myself.
At lunch, I skipped the cafeteria and found an old bench behind the library. I scrolled through my phone, staring at old pictures.
Image after image.
Faces stared back at me—some familiar, others warped by memory and pain.
My mother's face with fire in her eyes.
Reggie's smile.
My own—too smooth, too perfect.
A lie drawn in graphite.
I was still lost in it when Reggie showed up.
"You disappeared," he said, sitting beside me. "Told you I'd be keeping an eye on you."
"Don't you have someone else to bother?"
He shrugged. "Probably. But they're not as interesting."
I didn't answer. I didn't have the energy to push him away today.
Without asking, he took my phone and began swiping through the pictures—slowly, carefully.
Like he was trying to piece me together.
He stopped on one picture: a girl with a sewn-shut smile.
He looked up.
"Vanya…"
"Don't," I said sharply. "Don't ask."
He closed the photo and rested the phone on his lap.
"I won't," he said softly. "But I'll be here when you're ready."
I didn't believe him.
But for a moment, I let myself pretend I did.