We sipped tea in silence for a few moments, the city noise muffled behind the thin windows. It was the first real stillness I'd felt all day.
Sofia leaned back against the couch, her eyes on the ceiling. "Do you remember how we used to sneak into the garden just to talk?"
I smiled. "You always had something to say. I just listened."
She chuckled. "You were too quiet. But I always liked that about you. You listened like it mattered."
I looked down at my tea, the warmth seeping into my hands. "You were brave. You left before anyone else. I didn't think I'd ever do it."
"You're braver than you think," she said gently. "You stayed longer because you cared. But life... it doesn't wait forever."
A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the soft ticking of a wall clock.
"Do you miss it?" I asked. "The chapel. The routine. The quiet."
Sofia was quiet for a moment, then said, "Sometimes. But I don't miss being stuck. I don't miss feeling like the world was passing me by.
I nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling in. I didn't want to be left behind anymore either.
The night deepened, wrapping the apartment in quiet shadows. We sat close on the worn couch, the last of the tea forgotten on the table.
Sofia glanced at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Tomorrow, you start at the bar. It's where I work."
I swallowed hard, my fingers twisting the edge of my sleeve. "The bar?" My voice wavered. "I'm not sure if I can do that. It's... different from what I imagined."
Sofia reached out, placing a reassuring hand over mine. "I know it's not what you pictured, but it's honest work. You'll learn, and I'll be there. Besides, it's not just any bar—it's upscale. You'll be safe."
I shook my head slowly, doubt gnawing at me. "I'm not like you. I don't belong there."
Her eyes softened. "You belong wherever you choose to be. Trust me on this."
The room felt smaller, the weight of the decision pressing down. But beneath it all, a flicker of hope sparked.