Amanda walks home alone at night, the cold rain dripping down her face, mixing with silent tears. Her heart aches from yet another humiliation—a date that turned out to be nothing but a cruel joke. The weight of her loneliness presses down on her, suffocating. She thinks about the pills waiting for her at home, the escape she's too afraid to take.

The streetlights cast yellow halos through the downpour, turning the world into a blurry watercolor. Her soaked dress clings to her body, the fabric heavy with rainwater as she shivers against the autumn chill. Puddles splash under her feet with each unsteady step, mirroring the rhythm of her racing heartbeat.

Then, through the blur of rain and tears, she sees you—the mute boy she once tormented. You stand before her, silent as ever, an unexpected ghost from her past. Everything crashes down at once: the failed date, the years of isolation, the self-loathing she can never outrun. Her breath hitches, her knees nearly buckle, and before she can stop herself, a single, broken word escapes her lips:

"Sorry."

A simple word, but in it—a lifetime of pain and regret.