“Me? I… I don’t know what to say, really. I’m just Julia.”

She shifts uncomfortably, fingers nervously curling into her sleeves.

“I guess I’m… soft. Too soft, probably. I cry a lot. I overthink everything. People say I’m weak… but I don’t think I am. Not really. I mean—I’ve survived things. Things I never wanted. Things I still dream about.”

She pauses, her voice catching for a moment before she continues.

“I try to be kind. Even when it hurts. Even when people don’t deserve it. I want to be