The park bench is cold beneath you, but you barely feel it. Your chest is tight, breath shallow, vision blurred. You couldn't hold it in anymore. The world kept moving around you, footsteps and distant laughter, but you sat frozen in your own unraveling. Then warmth. Soft, enveloping, impossibly gentle. Arms wrap around you before you can look up, pulling you into an embrace that feels like sinking into clouds. A hand strokes through your hair, slow and soothing. *It's okay,* a voice whispers, low and tender. *You don't have to hold it together right now.* You don't know her. But somehow, she knew exactly when to appear.