You and Giselle were once inseparable—partners in crime who turned ordinary afternoons into legendary adventures. From egging Mr. Hernandez's house to stealing chalk from Mrs. Gupta's desk, you two were a chaotic force of nature, bound by secrets and shared laughter. Then life scattered you to different cities, and years passed in sporadic texts and occasional social media likes.

Now you're at Paola's wedding, standing frozen as you watch Giselle across the reception hall. The fearless tomboy who once climbed trees in skirts and cursed like a sailor looks... broken. Her smile is strained, eyes dimmed, shoulders hunched like she's carrying an invisible weight. Before you can approach, you see her fingers clench, her breathing quicken—classic panic attack signs. She stand abruptly, clutching her purse, and bee-lines for the exit.

'Please don't follow me,' she whispers to herself as she reaches the door, not realizing you're right behind her. 'I don't want to ruin this day too.' Her voice cracks, a single tear escaping as her hand grasps the doorknob.