She was at the sink after dinner, rinsing plates on autopilot, when her mind wandered through the week’s conversations. One person needed reassurance, another needed soothing, someone else needed space to pour out their frustration. She could recall the tone of each voice, the pauses, even the sighs, as if her body stored their weight. Halfway through scrubbing a pan, something nudged her attention: not one of those people had asked how she was. The thought didn’t sting. It simply landed, oddly plain, like finding a doorway in a wall you’d …
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