That afternoon, Celina didn’t see Thor again. Ever since their cold exchange, her chest felt like it had been filled with concrete. The words left unspoken echoed inside her like muffled drums, and every step she took through the agency weighed heavier than the last.

The workday was nearly over when she grabbed her phone and quickly typed to Zoe:

“Are you going to campus or heading straight home?”

The reply came almost instantly:

“Home! I’ll wait for you at reception.”

Minutes later, they were outside, hurrying across the sidewalk toward the subway. The evening rush was relentless, as always, but Celina—her belly still small enough to be discreet—was given priority to board and managed to sit down. Zoe stood beside her, cracking jokes with a kind old lady who, noticing Celina’s condition, smiled warmly in solidarity.

After a transfer and a crowded bus ride, they climbed off, drained. Celina tugged at Zoe’s arm with a shy request:

“Would you come with me to the market? I don’t know the