Stella's POV

The sound of the key turning in the lock felt too loud in the apartment's silence. I pushed the door open with my shoulder, the grocery bags with my untouched lunch still hanging from my hand, and shut it with my foot. The white walls and cheap furniture welcomed me with their usual indifference. Everything was the same as always, except me.

I felt drained. Like a thick, heavy exhaustion clung to my body, my head, my shoulders. All I wanted was somewhere to collapse.

"Jesus, Stella, you look like a zombie." Leah's voice came from the living room.

She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, wearing a pale pink sweatshirt, a mug of tea in her hands. Her curly hair, dyed a vibrant red, was piled on top of her head with a crooked clip. The freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks stood out as her face twisted with concern when she saw me.

I dropped my purse on the floor, set the grocery bags on the coffee table, and went straight to her. I collapsed onto the couc