"For once, I didn't fold."
The letter sat on her desk for two days.
Every time Silver walked past it, her eyes flicked toward the cream envelope with her mother's perfect handwriting, as if it might bite her if she turned her back. The air in her dorm felt too still, too heavy, even with Americus's abandoned scarf tossed on the chair and Riley's notes scattered over the dresser from their last study session.
It wasn't just a piece of paper anymore. It was a demand. A line drawn between who she was supposed to be and who she actually was.
She'd tried ignoring it. Tried burying it under textbooks and her physio schedule. But Leona's words had a way of seeping through everything, like water finding cracks in ice.
