Through the Glass

Chapter 12

The room was filled with a quiet hum as Matthew stood in front of the group, his hands resting on a large wooden bowl that was overflowing with small slips of paper. The bowl was smooth, well-worn from years of use, and its presence commanded attention. Eliza sat beside Connor, their chairs close enough that their arms brushed. The slight contact was grounding, a silent reassurance that they were in this together.

Matthew cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Today's activity is a bit different," he began, his voice steady but calm. "In this bowl are questions—personal, reflective, and designed to help us dig deeper into our emotions and experiences. Each of you will take a turn picking one, and after you've had a moment to reflect, you'll answer it as honestly as you can."

Eliza shifted in her seat, her fingers anxiously twisting in her lap. She could feel the tension building in her chest, the same kind of unease she had felt during the object-sharing exercise the day before. She stole a glance at Connor, whose calm demeanor did little to betray any nerves he might be feeling. His hand was resting on his knee, close enough that she could reach for it if she needed.

Sensing her discomfort, Connor gently slid his hand over hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. The warmth of his touch steadied her, and she took a deep breath, grateful for his quiet support.

Matthew continued, "There's no pressure here. If a question feels too difficult to answer right now, that's okay. But I encourage you to try, because these moments—though challenging—are where the real growth happens."

Eliza felt Connor's hand squeeze hers a little tighter, and she squeezed back, appreciating the unspoken understanding between them. They had grown closer in such a short time, and though the circumstances were unexpected, there was something comforting about their connection. It felt like they had fallen into each other's lives at the right time, just when they both needed someone who understood.

The first participant stood and walked toward the bowl, their steps hesitant but deliberate. Eliza watched as the person drew a slip of paper, their fingers trembling slightly as they unfolded it. She listened as they shared their answer, but her focus kept drifting back to Connor. His presence beside her felt like a buffer against the weight of the room's intensity.

When it was Connor's turn, he stood up without hesitation, his hand slipping from hers as he walked to the front of the room. Eliza's pulse quickened as she watched him, her nerves suddenly heightening. She wasn't sure why, but she felt more on edge when it came to Connor sharing, as if his answers mattered more than the others'. She watched his every movement, her breath shallow as he reached into the bowl and selected a question.

He took a moment to read it before looking up at the group, his face betraying no emotion.

"The question is, 'What's something you wish you could change about your past, and why?'" He paused, his eyes flicking toward Eliza for the briefest moment before he began.

"I think if I could change anything, it would be... the way I've always kept myself on the outside." His voice was measured, but there was a vulnerability underneath the surface. "I've spent most of my life feeling like I didn't really belong anywhere. Like I was always watching from the sidelines, waiting for a place where I could fit in. With my family, I was the odd one out—different from my brother and my parents in ways I couldn't even explain. And with friends... well, I guess I kept my distance, scared that I'd never really be accepted."

He took a breath, glancing down at the floor for a moment. "I used music to fill that gap. It was something I could pour myself into, something I could control when everything else felt uncertain. But even there, I always felt like I wasn't quite reaching people, like I wasn't fully connected to them or to myself."