The bus rattled as it crawled down the early-morning street, the windows fogged from the cold and the quiet breaths of half-asleep passengers. Eden Marrow sat near the back, her hood pulled up, fingers curled around the strap of her worn backpack. She’d gotten off her night shift an hour ago, and the exhaustion clung to her like a second skin.

Outside, the sky was still dark—just a thin line of gray hinting at sunrise. Eden’s reflection hovered faintly in the glass: tired eyes, loose hair, the expression of someone trying not to take up too much space.

The driver announced the next stop, and Eden stood, moving with the kind of cautious slowness of someone afraid to draw attention. As she stepped off the bus, the cold air bit at her cheeks, but it woke her up a little. She walked the familiar path toward her small apartment complex, a cracked sidewalk lined with flickering street lamps.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from her mother.

“Your brother needs help with his project this weekend. You’re free, right?”

Not a hello. Not a question. A certainty.

Eeden stared at the screen, thumb hovering. She typed a response, erased it, typed another. Eventually she just slipped the phone back into her pocket and kept walking, shoulders curling inward.