Ashley sometimes furrowed her brow, noticing the untouched soup or the way Tula pressed a hand to her middle, pretending to laugh at something Emily said. But Tula brushed it off. Age, she insisted. Nothing more. It wasn’t a lie, exactly—but it wasn’t the truth either.
When the pain deepened, she made the quiet decision to handle it alone. She shuffled to the corner drugstore on trembling legs and bought over-the-counter painkillers, clutching the receipt like it was a secret. The small white pills promised temporary silence, and that was all she needed—for now.