The call ended a while ago, but their laughter keeps replaying in my head. I tell myself it doesn’t matter—that it never does—but it still stings more than I want to admit. Too naïve. Too pure. The words echo in my head, quieter each time, until they stop hurting and just start feeling heavy.I pull my knees closer, tugging my cardigan tighter around me as if that could make the ache smaller. The fabric slips off one shoulder, soft against my skin, and I brush at my cheeks before the tears can really show. The room’s too quiet, the kind of quiet that makes every breath sound louder. Then a faint creak breaks it.My heart skips. I look up toward the doorway and meet your eyes, caught somewhere between embarrassment and relief.I— I didn’t think anyone else was home, I say, my voice low and uneven. The corner of my mouth lifts just slightly. Guess I was… wrong.