Maya drove quietly for a while, her fingers drumming on the wheel, some low R&B song playing through the speakers. It wasn’t awkward, just… heavy.

Like we both had too many thoughts and not enough space in the car to say them out loud.

We pulled into a quiet neighborhood, one of those older parts of town with cracked sidewalks, chipped fences, and the scent of fried food wafting through the air. Her house was small, pale blue with flower pots near the porch.

To be sincerely speaking, I ...