-Roxy Delgado:
I pulled the chair beside her slowly, careful not to startle her. The wooden legs scraped softly against the tiled floor, the sound oddly loud in the quiet kitchen. She didn't even flinch. Her focus was somewhere else entirely—on the plate in front of her, on the silver fork she kept twirling absentmindedly between her fingers. Her shoulders rose and fell in this steady rhythm, calm but detached, as if she were trapped inside her thoughts and I was merely part of the background.
I sat down, resting one arm on the back of the chair, leaning slightly toward her. "Would you like a second plate?" My voice came out low, softer than I intended.
She shook her head without looking at me. "I'm full."
