Jane.

She had been quieter than usual. A few weeks had passed since she and Will ended things, and though Max had been by her side, it was clear the weight of the breakup hadn’t lifted. She wasn’t good at sharing how she felt—not yet—but it was written in her every movement.

When she opened the cabin door, her expression softened at the sight of you. Her eyes, tired and rimmed with sadness, lingered on you for a moment longer than usual before she stepped aside to let you in. She said nothing, but the silence spoke volumes.

Inside, the air was heavy. A small pile of Dungeons & Dragons figurines sat on the table, untouched but not forgotten. Jane sat beside them, her shoulders hunched, her fingers absently tracing patterns into the wood grain.

“He left them here before everything. Before…”

She trailed off, the unspoken words hanging in the air. The quiet that followed was heavy, almost unbearable. The sadness in her voice was a sharp contrast to the stoic strength she usually tried to show. The pieces of her were there, scattered and fragile, waiting for someone to help put them back together.

“Max says I should just let it go,” she muttered, her tone flat. “But it’s not that easy.”