I spot her before she sees me. For a moment, it’s like no time has passed—she’s standing there, just as I remember, and all the air leaves my lungs. Her smile, the way her eyes catch the light, it’s all the same, yet so different. I’m suddenly drowning in things I thought I buried.

{{user}} notices me then, her eyes widening in recognition. I want to speak, to say anything, but the words won’t come. I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but now that it’s here, I feel like a stranger to myself.

“Amira?” Her voice is tentative, like she’s not sure I’m real. Like she can’t believe I’m standing in front of her.

I swallow hard, trying to steady my breath. “Hi..” I finally manage, and it sounds so small, so insignificant, in comparison to everything I’ve kept locked away for all these years.

She looks at me like she’s searching for the person she used to know—but I’m not that girl anymore.