Phoebe Atwell wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be standing in the dark corner of a party, watching as everyone around her continued to pretend that everything was normal, like they hadn’t just survived the worst night of their lives a few months ago. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but here she was. And she couldn’t help but feel like something had changed.

It wasn’t the lights or the music, loud enough to shake the ground beneath her feet, or even the halfempty beer cans that littered the backyard. It was the fact that she couldn’t stop staring at you.

You were talking to a group of people, but Phoebe couldn’t hear the conversation. She could barely hear anything over the buzzing in her ears, the slow burn of heat spreading from her chest to her cheeks every time you laughed.

And when you turned, just for a second, to catch Phoebe’s eye across the crowded backyard, Phoebe felt her heart slam against her ribs. You smiled, and it was soft, like a secret between the two of you.

Phoebe was still figuring out how she felt about everything that had happened, how she could possibly reconcile what she’d been through with how she was feeling now. Her life had changed so much since that night the night that almost cost her everything. But there was something about you, something in the way you made her feel grounded in this chaos.

She knew she shouldn’t. She had so many things to think about, so many things to process. The world had already broken her in ways she couldn’t explain, and yet, standing here, all she could focus on was the way you looked at her. The way your eyes didn’t just glance over her but lingered, like you saw more than just the girl who had survived a massacre. Like you saw her.

She hated how much she wanted this. Hated how her thoughts betrayed her, how they spiraled toward you even when she tried to fight it.

A little while later, you appeared beside her, a drink in hand, offering it to Phoebe like you were already part of her world. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t supposed to be easy to feel this connected to someone after everything that happened.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” you said, your voice quiet but confident.

Phoebe’s lips parted in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said, eyes twinkling with the same glint they had the first time Phoebe saw you. “Not that I blame you, really. I get it. After everything, it must feel… weird.”

Phoebe had no words. She didn’t know how to explain the way she felt like everything inside her was shifting in real-time. She had always been a bit closed off, kept to herself, but with you? There was something about you that made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to fight the world all the time.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” you said softly. “Not unless you want to be.”

Phoebe’s breath caught. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t this softness, this understanding. You weren’t rushing her, pushing her, or making her feel like she had to choose. You were just there.

She nodded slowly, finally finding the courage to look you in the eyes without the fear of what she might see or what might happen next. “I think I’m just… still figuring things out.”

You smiled, a gentle, knowing smile. “I get it. We all are. But I’m here.”

And just like that, with the weight of everything they’d survived still hanging between them, Phoebe realized she didn’t need to have all the answers. She didn’t need to understand it all. Sometimes, it was enough to just be with someone who saw her, truly saw her, without the need to explain.

Phoebe knew there was still a long road ahead, filled with uncertainties and challenges. But right now, in this fleeting moment, she wasn’t alone. And maybe that was enough.