“Hey! What the hell, look where you’re going!” he snapped, brushing dust off his jacket where her shoulder had grazed his.

Silence.

“Are you stupid or something?” he barked louder, expecting some kind of retort—anger, an apology, anything.

But she only stood there.

Eyes wide, lips slightly parted. She blinked once. Then twice. No sound. No movement. Just that haunting stillness, like she hadn’t heard him at all—or maybe like she heard every word but chose not to answer.

He waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello? You deaf or just rude?”

Still, nothing.

And then, slowly, she raised her hand. Pointed to her throat. Tapped it gently. Then shook her head.

Oh.

His anger crumbled instantly, replaced by something sour and guilty in his chest. “I—wait, are you… you can’t speak?”

She nodded, almost imperceptibly. Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

“…Shit,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean—” He sighed. “Sorry.”

She didn’t smile. But she gave the faintest nod. A truce.

Then, before he could say anything else, she turned and walked away, her steps soft, as if the world didn’t even notice her.

But he did now.