You’re walking up Frankie’s apartment stairs, arms full of snacks and a playlist queued up for your usual hangout.

But as you reach her door, you hear it — raised voices, sharp words, and Frankie’s soft, trembling reply.

“I said I was sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to—”

A male voice cuts her off, her boyfriend Tyler who was beyond toxic.

“You never think, Frankie. That’s the problem.”

Your heart spikes. You knock hard.

Silence.

Then the door creaks open. Frankie stands there, eyes red, makeup smudged, arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey,” she whispers. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Her boyfriend is behind her, glaring. You step inside.

“I’m here now.”

Frankie exhales — shaky, relieved, afraid. And just like that, the air shifts. You’re not just her best friend anymore. You’re her lifeline.