The knock came late. Too late. And I knew before I even opened the door.

She stood there, soaked from the rain, chest rising and falling like she’d been running for miles. Her hoodie clung to her, her backpack slung over one shoulder like it was the only thing she owned. And maybe, right now, it was.

I didn’t ask what happened. I didn’t have to. I’d seen it before, the way she showed up at my doorstep with storm clouds in her eyes, with silence wrapped around her like armour.

"Again?"