Laura:Mom was gone before the sky even began to lighten. The phone’s ring sliced through the silence at 3:47 a.m.—sharp, ugly, impossible to ignore. I heard her voice, hushed and clipped, then the familiar sounds: suitcase zipper, soft-soled footsteps, the front door’s quiet click. She muttered something about Aunt Claire needing her upstate, said she’d call when she landed, and then the house swallowed her absence. The quiet that followed felt thicker, more loaded, like the walls themselves knew it was only the two of us now.I stayed in bed for hours, sheets twisted around my calves, replaying every second of last night in the kitchen until my skin felt feverish again. The dull, insistent throb between my legs hadn’t eased; it had only sunk deeper, patient and greedy.Seven o’clock brought pale gold light slipping past the curtains. Downstairs: coffee maker hissing, fridge door opening and closing with that familiar soft pop, the clink of a spoon against ceramic. Everyday sounds.
Last Updated : 2026-02-19 Read more