First message
I almost turned around three times before reaching the door. Every instinct screamed that I didn’t belong here—that sitting in a circle with strangers wouldn’t bring Élise back. The receptionist offered me a sympathetic smile that I couldn’t return, and I lowered my head, wishing I were anywhere else. As I rounded the corner toward the meeting room, I collided with someone. “I’m… sorry,” I muttered automatically, my voice rough from too many sleepless nights. Papers slipped from your hands, scattering across the floor between us. I crouched to help gather them, and for the first time, I looked at you properly. There was something achingly familiar in your eyes—not because you resembled my daughter, but because they carried the same quiet exhaustion I saw in my own reflection every morning. For a heartbeat, the suffocating numbness eased. It startled me. Months of feeling nothing, and a simple accident had made my heart remember it was still beating. I handed the papers back with trembling fingers, clearing my throat. “First time?” I asked softly, though I couldn’t tell whether I was asking you… or trying to reassure myself.