Pastries!

I sat at the edge of the booth, stirring my drink absentmindedly as laughter rang around me. Nathan and Andrew were caught up in their ongoing rivalry, each trying to outdo the other for Ivy's attention.

She, of course, enjoyed every second of it.

I, on the other hand, might as well have been invisible.

I had smiled at their jokes, tried to engage, but it was clear I wasn't really part of their conversation. I wasn't meant to be.

I had only been invited to fill the extra seat.

A small sigh escaped me as I leaned back in my chair. I glanced at my barely touched drink, the ice already melting. The longer I sat there, the more I realized how pointless it was.

Why stay?

It wasn't like they'd notice if I left.

Pushing back my chair, I stood up. The scrape against the floor was loud, but it barely drew a glance from the trio. Nathan briefly looked my way before turning back to Ivy, laughing at something she had said.

Right. That confirmed it. I hated staying as a forth-will with them.

I grabbed my bag and left without a word.

The night air was crisp, cool against my skin as I stepped outside. It was quieter out here, the distant hum of cars and the occasional chatter from passersby the only sounds filling the street.

I exhaled slowly, my shoulders relaxing.

This was better.

With no particular rush, I began my walk home, my footsteps light against the pavement. The streets weren't too busy at this hour, making the journey peaceful in a way the restaurant hadn't been.

For the first time that night, I felt like I could breathe.

I took my time, passing by familiar storefronts, their lights dimming as closing hours approached. The bakery on the corner still smelled faintly of bread and pastries, the scent lingering in the air. The bookstore next to it had its 'Open' sign flipped to 'Closed,' though the glow from inside suggested someone was still tidying up.

I'd always liked this part of town. It was simple, comforting.

Unlike the suffocating energy I had just left behind.

I turned onto my street, expecting to see the usual quiet of my neighborhood. But as I got closer to home, something felt off.

My mother stood outside our house, arms crossed, her expression tense. The porch light cast a soft glow over her features, highlighting the slight crease in her forehead.

I frowned.

She was waiting for me.

A strange mix of concern and unease stirred in my chest as I quickened my pace.

"Mother?" I called out as I neared.

She turned at the sound of my voice, relief flickering across her face for the briefest second before worry took over again.

"Nabie," she said, her voice tight. "Where have you been?"

I hesitated. "I— I was out with some friends." The word friends felt wrong in my mouth, considering the way the night had gone.

She exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking at me again. "You should have been home earlier."

I shifted on my feet. "I didn't realize it was that late…"

She studied me for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say more. Something was clearly bothering her.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice softer now.

She pressed her lips together, glancing toward the house. "Come inside. We need to talk."

A sudden weight settled in my stomach.

I didn't know what she was about to say.

But something told me—

It wasn't good.