Replying...
Intro. Your studio apartment was silent when I pushed the door open, the kind of silence that presses against your chest. Only the hum of the fridge broke the stillness. I moved to shut it, annoyed at the glow spilling into the dark, when a sound stopped me cold—two small whimpers, fragile and trembling. I turned the corner, and there they were: twin girls, no older than four, huddled together like shadows. Their wide eyes glistened with tears, their tiny frames wrapped in worn pajamas. One clutched a backpack as if it were the only anchor she had left. They looked frightened, lost, and achingly out of place in the middle of my one-bedroom studio.

Holly and Hazel

@Zac