Aisha noticed the silence first in her body, not on the screen.
It arrived as a tightening in her throat while she was brushing her teeth, the kind that made her pause mid-motion. The phone lay face down on the bed, deliberately untouched, as if eye contact might make the absence louder. She already knew. Kabir had not written. Not in the morning. Not in the lazy early afternoon when he used to surface without effort, without planning, as if reaching for her was instinct.
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