Ethan
I close the door slowly, carefully, as if making noise could break something more than what's already broken.
My hand rests on the handle for a few seconds, motionless, heavy.
I take a deep breath, but it's not enough. Nothing is.
I look up… And there she is, Clara's mother standing in the hallway, waiting.
She doesn't say anything right away, she just watches me. And I don't need words to know she understands everything.
I lower my gaze; I don't have the strength to meet hers.
"Let's talk downstairs…" she says gently. "I know you need to vent."
I swallow, I nod.
I don't trust my own voice right now.
We walk in silence, we descend the stairs slowly. Each step feels heavier than the last, as if my own body is resisting movement, as if staying there… behind that door… would
