Chapter 4
Episode 4understand i am working until done cierto christal. Noir.hjierte
The snow began to fall that Tuesday, heavy and wet, plastering itself against the windows of the small café where I sat. I had been staring at the same page of my notebook for forty minutes, the words blurring into meaningless shapes. The phone in my pocket vibrated again—another message from David, no doubt. I didn't check it.
The waitress refilled my coffee without being asked. She had that look, the one that said she recognized the kind of woman who sits alone too long, nursing a single cup until it grows cold. I thanked her with a smile that felt like a cracked window, letting in the draft of everything I was trying to keep out.
I thought about the children. Mine. His. Ours, in a way that had never been fully claimed. They were the threads I kept pulling, trying to weave something whole out of the ragged fabric we had left behind. But some patterns can't be mended, no matter how careful your hands.
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