SophiaComing home always felt like slipping into a life I'd outgrown. I dropped my suitcase at the front door and kicked off my sandals. The marble floor felt cool against my toes, a relief from the sticky summer heat. Nothing had changed. Not the leather couch that clung to bare skin, not the stack of untouched Forbes magazines on the glass coffee table, and definitely not the scent—cologne, faint whiskey, and that sterile air-conditioned chill that whispered money lives here.Home. Or at least, the place I slept whenu school wasn't in session.I'd just wrapped up another semester at Columbia—first year of my Master's in Communication and Media. At twenty-three, with my undergrad degree barely a year behind me, I was tired, broke from textbooks, and one coffee away from a full-on breakdown during exams week. Fancy title for something that's made me allergic to small talk and very aware of bullshit. So, summer back home was supposed to be a break. A quiet reset.First step? Food. I h
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