The silence between them grew heavier by the day.
It wasn't loud or dramatic. It was quieter than that—just longer pauses between words, fewer shared looks, and smiles that didn't quite reach.
At home, they moved like shadows of themselves. Maya still made two cups of tea in the evenings, but Mira rarely drank hers. Mira still set aside the good paintbrushes, but Maya hadn't picked up a canvas in days.
And in the center of it all: Jay.
And the things they weren't saying.
That Saturday, Maya knocked on the door of Mira's room. Not their room—Mira had moved to the guest room the night after the lunch-table walkout.
"Mira," she called softly.
No answer.
She opened the door.
Mira was sitting on the floor, headphones in, sketching furiously. The drawing was intense—thick lines, clashing shapes, almost violent.
Maya sat down beside her. Quiet.
Mira pulled her headphones off slowly. "You want something?"
"I want my sister back."
Mira didn't look at her. "You have her. You always do."
Maya's voice trembled. "Why are you shutting me out?"
"Because you don't get it."
"Then help me get it, Mira. Please."
Mira tossed the sketchbook aside. "You like him."
Maya froze.
"I don't—"
"You do. And he likes you back. And you know it. And you keep acting like it's nothing."
Maya's eyes burned. "So what if he does? Am I not allowed to talk to someone who's kind to me?"
"It's not just talking. He used to talk to me, Maya. He saw me. And then you smiled at him, and he disappeared."
"That's not fair," Maya whispered.
"Life isn't fair," Mira snapped.
Silence.
"I've always been the storm," Mira said softly. "And you're the sun. Everyone always chooses the sun."
Maya reached for her hand. "I never wanted to be chosen over you."
"But you are," Mira whispered. "You always are."
Tears slid down Maya's cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I know," Mira said. "But it still hurts."
Later that evening, Mira went out for a walk. Kezi spotted her sitting at the edge of the park, under a half-dead tree.
"Red," he said, flopping down beside her. "You look like a kicked puppy who started a fire."
"Not today, Kez."
He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Do you ever feel like you're just… background noise in someone else's life?"
Mira blinked. "All the time."
Kezi stared up at the sky. "I like you, you know. You're not fake. You burn."
She glanced at him. "That a compliment?"
"Absolutely."
He tossed her a candy bar from his pocket. "Chocolate solves, like, 40% of emotional meltdowns. The rest is handled by chaos and questionable decisions."
She laughed, despite herself.
"Do you like Jay?" he asked suddenly.
Mira stared at the ground. "I don't know anymore."
"Well," he said, "I think he likes both of you. But not in the same way."
Mira frowned. "What do you mean?"
Kezi shrugged. "He looks at you like he's trying to figure you out. He looks at Maya like… like she's the answer."
That hurt more than she expected.
Kezi leaned in. "You're still the question worth asking."
Meanwhile, Maya sat on the porch steps, fingers gripping her necklace—the small silver one she and Mira had matching since their 12th birthday. She hadn't taken it off since.
Jay appeared suddenly, walking up the path.
"Hey," he said gently.
She smiled faintly. "Hey."
"Can I sit?"
She nodded.
They sat in silence for a while.
"I think I've messed things up," he said quietly.
Maya looked at him.
"With Mira," he added. "I didn't mean to… choose sides."
Maya hesitated. "She's hurting."
"I know."
"I think… she liked you. Still does."
Jay ran a hand through his hair. "She's incredible. Intense. Honest."
"And me?" Maya asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to her.
"You're like peace after the storm."
That made her heart skip.
"But I didn't want to be the reason you two fought."
"You're not," she said, but she wasn't sure it was true.
He hesitated. Then: "There's something I haven't told either of you."
Maya tensed. "What is it?"
Jay looked away. "I didn't just transfer here randomly. My mom… she used to know your parents. Before the accident."
Maya's eyes widened. "What?"
"I didn't come here looking for you two. But when I met you… something clicked. I don't know how to explain it. Like I was supposed to find you."
Maya's thoughts spiraled. This changed everything.
But before she could ask more, Mira stepped onto the porch, stopping in her tracks when she saw them.
Three hearts froze.
Three faces—each carrying too many truths—locked in a triangle of silence.
Then Mira turned and walked back inside without a word.
And something, somewhere, cracked.