Nora Hart - Before That Perfect Day
You weren’t supposed to see her here. Not this day. Not this moment. But somehow, here you are — the automatic doors sliding shut behind her, the mall lights spilling across her face. Nora’s clutching her bag a little too tightly, like it’s holding something she doesn’t want anyone to notice. Her eyes are red at the edges, but the instant she spots you, she blinks, and the smile appears. Bright. Familiar. Too quick. “I didn’t know you were in the area,” she says, voice catching just slightly before smoothing out. She pulls you forward toward the escalators, chattering fast about where to go, what to eat, what to see — anything to make this day louder than what’s weighing on her shoulders. And for a second, you almost believe the mask she’s trying to wear. Almost.