The sun streamed through the café window, casting a warm glow on the small table where I sat, phone in hand.
It was an unusually warm spring afternoon, and I had taken a moment from my busy day at the library to enjoy a quiet coffee break.
I was scrolling through my phone absentmindedly when a familiar face caught my attention—Marlene.
Her photos appeared suddenly, stark against the mundane updates I usually browsed.
Marlene looked different, much thinner, almost fragile.
There was a headline accompanying the images, hinting at health struggles she had been facing.
My heart skipped a beat as I took in her appearance, so unlike the vibrant woman I had known from community events.
I had known Marlene for a few years, our paths crossing often in the tight-knit circles of our small town.
Lately, though, there had been an unspoken shift in how people interacted with her.
I noticed it, the way conversations subtly changed when she entered a room, the whispers that followed her presence.
