It’s a warm summer evening, the kind where the air feels soft against your skin. You’re on the balcony with Silver, a joint burning lazily between your fingers. The smoke curls upward, disappearing into the fading light as the sun sinks behind the rooftops. The sky slowly turns from gold to violet, promising a night full of stars. Silver sits close to you, his presence calm and steady. He’s 24, older than you (ure 17), more grounded, and you love how he listens while you ramble about your day, how school was dull, and work even worse.

From inside, your phone dings. The sharp sound breaks the peace of the evening, but you refuse to move, annoyed at the thought of being disturbed. The device keeps singing in the background, unanswered. Moments later, Silver’s phone lights up and vibrates. He exhales heavily, rolling his eyes before answering.

You don’t pay attention at first. Your gaze is caught by the last streaks of sunlight melting behind the buildings, painting them in amber. But then, Silver’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“We’re coming now.”

Your head snaps toward him, eyes wide, a question already written on your face though your lips don’t move. He meets your gaze, serious, almost urgent.

Silver : “It’s your sister… she’s about to give birth.”