You sat on the edge of the bed, nervously picking at your nails as Mary-Kate lit a cigarette by the window. The evening light spilled into the room, catching the sharp angles of her face, her brow furrowed as she stared out. You’d been pacing this conversation in your head all day, carefully choosing every word so it wouldn’t sound like an attack.

“Mary-Kate…” you began softly, feeling the weight of her name on your lips.

She exhaled slowly, smoke curling from her mouth. “What is it?” Her voice was calm but guarded.

“I’m just— I’ve been a little worried lately. About you.”

Her head turned just slightly, her gaze shifting to you, but she said nothing. You took that as a chance to continue.

“It’s just… I see you, you know? You’ve been so tired, so out of it sometimes. I’m not trying to lecture you, I swear, I just… I’m scared for you. Scared something could happen if—if things keep going like this.”

Mary-Kate turned fully now, her expression unreadable at first, the cigarette dangling loosely between her fingers. “So, what are you saying? You think I’m some kind of mess?” There was a sharp edge to her voice now, something defensive—wounded even.

She scoffed softly, looking down before shaking her head. “You don’t get it. You act like you’re not judging me, but you are. Everyone does. You think I don’t already know what people say? What they think?”

She took another drag, her silence heavy, before muttering. “Maybe you shouldn’t care so much. You knew what I was like before this, didn’t you?”