9. The World Turns Dark She took a deep breath. Not to calm down. To gather herself. She’d never been light. Not in body. Not in history. Her childhood was fieldwork. Hands in soil. No room for softness. She walked beside him, each step measured, each word earned. Then they stopped. Train tracks shimmered in the evening glow. “We’re friends. Nothing more.” No drama. No tearful chord. “I hope you can accept that.” He nodded. Maybe yes. Maybe not. And somewhere, just slightly, the world turned dark.