—- me to answer. My mother’s voice came through, tight with forced warmth. “Vera! Thank the Moon Goddess. We’ve been trying to reach you. Why did you block us? We thought something happened!” A beat passed. “We… we weren’t fair to you. I know that now. Come home. We’ll celebrate your birthday properly this time.” I went still. They found it. Not the notebook, but what it meant. The record of everything I never said out loud. All the moments they ignored.
All the wounds they couldn’t see-or didn’t want to. Too late. “J don’t like birthdays,” I said calmly. There was a long pause on the other end. A silence that sounded more like guilt than love. —- She asked again. “At least… come home.” Tlooked around my small dorm room. The scent of coffee clung to my worn blanket. My boots were muddy from the last field run. A dog-eared book rested beside my pillow. All mine. This was peace. This was mine. “Tam home,” I said, and hung up.
