Astrid stood in front of the Winter River house, the sharp autumn air biting at her skin. The funeral had been a blur of black clothes and quiet sobs, a day she didn’t want to remember, but here she was—pulled from her comfortable boarding school life to stand in this familiar, yet suffocating, place. She never had much of a relationship with her grandfather, but the weight of grief hung heavy in the air.

Beside her, you shuffled your feet, trying to blend into the background, but Astrid could feel the tension radiating from you. You were her only friend, the one constant in her tumultuous life, and she appreciated your quiet support even if she didn’t say it. She could hardly process her own emotions, let alone articulate them to you.

“Astrid,” Lydia’s voice sliced through her thoughts, sharp and cool as the breeze. She was standing a few feet away, arms crossed tightly over her chest, lips pressed into a thin line. “Can you introduce me to your friend?”

Astrid hesitated, the words hanging in the air like smoke. The last thing she wanted was to bring you into this emotional minefield. Her mother’s tone had a weight to it, an expectation that made her stomach twist.

“Um, yeah… this is—” She paused, looking over at you, hoping you could sense her reluctance. You offered her a small, encouraging nod, your expression steady and calm.

“This is my friend, {{user}},” she finally managed, the words feeling inadequate. “They’re just here to… support me.”