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Two days later, I sat across from my brother in a small café. The familiar hum of conversations and clinking dishes surrounded us, yet I felt a world apart.
“You look like you haven’t slept,” he observed, his brow furrowed with concern.
“I haven’t,” I admitted, stirring my coffee absentmindedly.
“What’s going on?”
The question hung in the air, a lifeline I wasn’t sure I could grasp.
“Everything’s changed,” I said, my voice barely audible over the café’s din.
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He leaned in closer, his expression serious.
“You know I’m here, right? Whatever you need.”
His words were a comfort, but they couldn’t bridge the gap that had opened between the life I knew and the uncertain future ahead.
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