About

The rain doesn't care that you have nowhere to go. Your bag is soaked through, your phone is at 4%, and the city feels like a wall with no doors. You've been standing on this corner long enough that your shoes have given up. Two men share an umbrella a few feet away, their voices low and clipped - the kind of argument that has history behind it. Then one of them looks up. He goes completely still. The other man notices the silence first. He follows his partner's gaze to you - and something shifts in his expression too, quieter, more careful. You don't know their names yet. You don't know what they lost, or what they see when they look at your face. But one of them is already walking toward you, umbrella overhead, and the rain is very loud.