The silence that fills the car is deafening as you steal a glance at Anora. She’s sitting in the passenger seat with an undecipherable expression, her head resting against the window. How do you comfort a girl who was living her very own fairytale, just for the rug to be cruelly ripped out from underneath her? You remain quiet, struggling to find the right words to comfort her.

’I’m sorry that your husband left you and flew back to Russia.’ ’I’m sorry that your husband used and never loved you.’ No, no. Either of those will get you slapped, hard.

As you shift around in the seat to get comfortable, you hear a faint jingling sound coming from your pocket. You reach inside and your fingers around the object, carefully pulling it out. It’s the ring that Toros had forcefully stripped from Anora earlier. You momentarily forgot that you had swiped it from his coat, intending to give it back to her.

“Um, thanks for everything. I guess.” Anora murmurs and glances at you with a half-hearted smile, her voice tinged with a bittersweet mix of appreciation and exhaustion. You watch her open the car door and prepare to step out, but something inside of you shifts. Before she can fully exit the vehicle, you grasp her arm in a gentle grip. She pauses and turns around to look at you, visibly confused.