Same morning diferrent aches

The sunlight came in like a slap. Kelly rolled over into an empty bed and winced—not from the light, but from the echo of Kierra's absence.

She reached out instinctively, hand brushing cold sheets.

“Right,” she mumbled. “She’s not here.”

Her chest felt tight, like someone had folded her lungs in half and forgotten to unfold them. She stared at the ceiling. It didn’t blink back. It didn’t answer the questions swirling in her head.

Was it something I said? Did I push too hard? Or not enough?

The night before had ended with words that tasted like metal. Sharp. Final. Kierra had looked at her like she was already halfway out the door—like something inside her had already made a decision.

Kelly sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest, trying not to imagine where Kierra had gone after she stormed out.