Comfort zone

The Weight of Unanswered Questions.

By the time I got home, the weight of the day felt heavier than usual. The scent of freshly baked bread greeted me as I stepped inside, a small comfort that reminded me of simpler times—times when everything felt normal.

"You're late," my mother called from the kitchen, her voice a mix of concern and irritation.

I sighed, slipping off my shoes. "I stayed at the library to study. Physics is killing me."

"You’re killing yourself with all this studying," she said, appearing in the doorway with a dish towel slung over her shoulder. "You went late to school this morning because you stayed up all night, didn’t you?"

I hesitated. She wasn’t wrong, but admitting it would only make things worse. "I’ll do better tomorrow."

She crossed her arms, her gaze softening but still firm. "We’ve talked about this, Nevada. You need to take care of yourself. Overworking doesn’t help anyone—not you, not us."

Her words carried a weight they didn’t always have. I knew why. Ever since my brother—Eden—disappeared last year, she worried more. About everything. About me.

"I’m fine, Mama," I said, forcing a smile.

"You say that, but you’ve lost weight, and you’re always tired. What if—" She stopped herself, the words hanging in the air like a shadow. What if you disappear too? She didn’t say it, but I knew she was thinking it.

"I’m not going anywhere," I said, trying to reassure her. "I promise."

She nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Go wash up. Dinner’s almost ready, and your father wants to talk to you."

Great. A double lecture.

In my room, I stared at the mirror for a moment, trying to piece together the girl I saw and the girl I used to be. There were dark circles under my eyes, my hair was a mess, and my school uniform was wrinkled from sitting too long at the library. I looked... tired.

As I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, my mind wandered back to the library, to him. The new guy. I shook my head, scolding myself for letting my thoughts drift to something so trivial when there were bigger things to worry about.

At dinner, my father’s voice was gentle but firm. "Nevada, we’re proud of how hard you work, but your mother’s right. You need balance."

"I know," I said, poking at my rice. "I just have so much to do."

"That’s life," he said. "But life also needs rest. If Eden were here..." His voice trailed off, and the silence that followed was deafening.

If Eden were here.

No matter how much time passed, his absence was always the unspoken presence at our table. My parents rarely talked about it directly, but moments like these reminded me how deeply his disappearance had fractured us.

"I’ll do better," I said softly, more for their sake than mine.

My mother reached over and squeezed my hand, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "That’s all we ask."

After dinner, I retreated to my room, burying myself in physics equations to drown out the thoughts threatening to surface. But my mind betrayed me, wandering back to Eden, to the way he used to make us laugh even when things were hard, to the mystery of where he could be now.

And then, uninvited, my thoughts shifted again—to the new guy at school.

What was it about him that felt... different?

I sighed, closing my textbook and leaning back in my chair. Between my family’s unresolved grief, my obsession with academics, and whatever Yessal thought was happening with this new guy, my life felt like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

But one thing was certain: I needed answers—about Eden, about myself, and maybe, just maybe, about him.

The front door

Living room

The kitchen

The bathroom

Her room