Each hopeful word chipped away at Clara’s heart. She forced smiles, nodding at the possibilities, but inside she felt herself shrinking, as though every dream Emily voiced was another piece of her own worth being carved away.
Each night Clara hid the envelope deeper in the drawer, convincing herself she could wait until the “right moment,” though she knew none would ever come. Lying awake, she listened to Emily humming in the next room, the sound as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. And yet, for the first time, it made her ache.