For a moment after he said it, "…can you please come?"
Nina didn't respond.
Not immediately. But not because she didn't hear him.
No, she heard him too clearly… every syllable, every unspoken weight behind the words. And something about it struck her differently this time.
The way his voice had lowered, stripped of its usual composure. The way the control in it had cracked… just slightly, like glass under pressure. The way he said please, as though the word itself cost him something.
Her heart squeezed in response.
Ethan.
The image of the little boy flashed unbidden in her mind… the way he looked at her during their last encounter, quiet but intense, like she was something important. Like she mattered in a world that probably felt too big and confusing for him.
And now, he wasn't eating. Wasn't speaking. Locked away in his own silence. Because of her. Guilt twisted through her chest, sharp and insistent.
