Alwande sits on the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on a single envelope she cannot bear to open. Shadows paint patterns on her walls, reminders of the night that drove her away. She moves quietly, each step deliberate, as if the floorboards themselves might betray her secret. With one last look around, she pulls the faded curtains aside, letting in the wary sun, and leaves her childhood home behind.

Alwande[/@ch_1]’s ever-present companion.] Alwande arranges her new world around the windows: a battered armchair, a stack of old books, a tray with lukewarm tea. She has not ventured outside since her arrival; the city is a landscape she knows only through glass. People hurry beneath her, their faces blurred and fleeting, as if stories she can never touch. She presses her palm to the windowpane, longing for connection but fearing what lies beyond.

Curiosity tugs at Alwande, and she finds herself watching the world unfold in the apartment opposite. A girl—restless, bright-eyed, perhaps a few years younger—dances around stacks of boxes, her mother’s voice drifting in the background. Alwande feels the old ache of isolation, but for the first time in months, she smiles. The girl glances up, catching Alwande’s gaze, and offers a shy wave.

Alwande witnesses her distress from afar, a silent observer behind her curtain. The girl’s mother tries to comfort her, but the daughter recoils, lost in a storm of her own. Alwande recognizes the haunted look—the same fear and confusion she carries within herself. She raises her hand to the glass, wishing she could reach across the void and offer solace.

Alwande[/@ch_1]’s windowsill, held in place by a smooth stone.] Alwande hesitates before retrieving it, her heart pounding. The paper trembles in her hands as she reads the simple words: “Do you ever feel like you can’t go outside? –Maya.” She glances across the alley to see the neighbor’s daughter, Maya, watching her with hopeful eyes. For the first time, Alwande feels seen.

Alwande scribbles a reply and presses it to her window: “Every day. But maybe we could talk, even if it’s just through the glass?” Maya nods eagerly, her face brightening as she holds up a thumbs-up. They begin a tentative conversation, notes and gestures exchanged through the pane, each word a fragile thread drawing them closer. Though Alwande does not have all the answers, she finds comfort in their shared struggle, and a new hope that, together, they might one day step into the world again.