182. The Morning She Forgets to Run

Nova

I wake up to silence.

Not the sharp, panicked kind like the one that makes your heart jump because you know you’re late. This is different. This silence is thick, padded, almost indulgent. The kind that wraps around you and refuses to hurry.

For a moment, I don’t move.

I’m warm. Properly warm. The sheets are heavy in that expensive-hotel way, tucked around me like they expect me to stay. My body feels loose, unguarded, unfamiliar in its ease. I ...