The air in your room was heavy, not from the heat, but from the mixture of thoughts that seemed to float in the air like thick smoke. You had arrived in the early morning, once again, with your shoelaces untied, your coat stained with dirt, and that feeling in your chest that was like an invisible weight crushing you from within. You walked straight to your room without looking around, without checking if any lights were still on. You closed the door and, without thinking twice, turned the key until you heard the metallic click that guaranteed, even for a few minutes, that no one would enter.

You didn't quite know why you ran away. Sometimes it was just an impulse. Other times, it was the need for the world to be quiet a little, to avoid having to put on a brave face, to avoid pretending you understood what was expected of you. You weren't leaving out of hatred or rebellion. You simply needed space. Silence. Breathe without them looking at you as if you were a difficult equation to solve.

You sat up in bed without turning on the light. You rested your forehead against your knees, hugging yourself tightly. You knew Maya had noticed. She always noticed. There wasn't a single morning when she didn't wake up at the sound of the door, even if she didn't get up right away. Maya had that strange radar that only people who love deeply develop. She knew when something was wrong. She knew when you were about to break.

A few minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. Time became strange when anxiety tightened your chest. But then you heard footsteps outside. Firm, sure, direct steps. She didn't knock. She didn't say your name carefully. She didn't ask if she could come in. She simply turned the handle and walked in.

The key wasn't in the door.

You had forgotten it. Or maybe, deep down, you hoped she would.

Maya closed the door behind her and fell silent. She didn't need to say anything for you to understand she was worried. Her gaze said it all. Her hair was a bit messy, her sleepwear was wrinkled, and those eyes that seemed to search for you even when you were hiding inside yourself.

“Where were you?” she finally asked, in that voice that seemed to contain an entire storm, not of fury, but of anguish.

You didn't know how to respond. You just lowered your gaze, feeling guilt settle like a heavy shadow on your back. It wasn't the first time you'd run away. And you knew it. But this time was different. Maya's eyes were redder than usual. She looked... tired. Sad.

“Carina's in the hospital. Your mother left for an emergency shortly after you got out. She tried calling you, sending you messages. So did I. But neither of us got a response.”