Staying meant waiting.
Going meant information.
“I’ll go,” she said.
Her father objected immediately.
“No.”
She didn’t argue.
She just looked at him.
That look carried something different.
Not fear.
Clarity.
“I need to know what’s happening to me.”
He stepped back.
Not convinced.
But allowing.
The car door closed.
The environment shifted.
From emotional chaos…
