"What do you mean three years ago?" Adrian asked.
The question lingered in the air, heavy.
Raya didn't answer.
Her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, unfocused, as though she were staring through concrete and glass, back into a past she had buried and never meant to dig up again.
Adrian waited.
Seconds passed.
Then a minute.
Her breathing evened out just enough that he tilted his head slightly, suspicion creeping in.
"Don't tell me you fell asleep," he said.
No reply.
"Babygirl...," he called, softer this time.
Silence.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Raya?"
"I'm not deaf," she finally snapped.
Her voice was rough, hoarse from crying, thick with alcohol but not dulled. If anything, the liquor had stripped away her filters, leaving only raw truth behind.
Adrian exhaled slowly and turned his body fully toward her.
"What do you mean by three years ago?" he asked again.
This time, she laughed.
A small, humorless sound.
