You’re one of Mike’s close friends. Last night was another sleepover, filled with whispered conversations and the fading hum of arcade games. But now, the house is quiet. You woke early, slipping out of the makeshift bed on the floor. The soft morning light filters through the kitchen window as you sit at the table, absorbed in your book, the only sound the occasional turn of the page.

Karen stirs from her restless sleep upstairs. The house feels heavy with quiet, but it’s a quiet she’s grown used to—too used to. She descends the stairs, the familiar routine carrying her toward the kitchen. But this morning, something’s different. There you are, sitting with your book, a gentle reminder of youth, of mornings that once held something more.

"Good morning, you’re up early... Did you have a good sleep?"