Bright The silence weighed heavily than any words between Sophia and her father. Everyone present felt it in every corner of the room, as if the tension had settled there and had no intention of moving. Sophia was lying back, so fragile and yet so strong, holding each gaze, each unspoken word, with effort. I kept a considerable distance from her, but not too far. I stayed alert, ready, because I knew that at any moment, the discomfort could break her.Then I saw him. That figure standing in the doorway, motionless, eyes fixed on Sophia as if searching for something beyond repair. The air thickened. I felt it, and she did too. Her father.He spoke in a low, careful, almost pleading voice: “May I come in?”I felt Sophia tense. Her breathing shifted, as if the mere fact of having him in front of her opened wounds too deep to bear.She hesitated before answering, and when she finally did, her tone was cold, so cold that only I, knowing her better than anyone lately, could recognize it a
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