Chapter 4 — Rachel’s Unfiltered Advice

Claire

The morning sun filtered weakly through the curtains, casting pale streaks across the kitchen table where Claire sat, her coffee untouched in its ceramic mug. The bitter aroma of the brew mingled with the faint, lemony scent of the freshly wiped countertop, but neither smell registered fully. Her fingers traced the grooves of the table’s wood grain, as though the tactile sensation could tether her to the present. Her mind looped relentlessly through the same haunting thought: *"I miss you. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Wish she wasn’t here so I could call."*