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    Summary

    Across the room, a cup clattered to the floor. Someone cursed. The crash sent Rumi’s shoulders rising nearly to her ears. Her hands shot out, grasping Zoey’s and Mira’s.

    “Yellow,” she said, in the same tone one might use to remark on the weather.

    The hand of Zoey she wasn’t holding appeared in the space between them, hovering an inch above Rumi’s sternum.

    At Rumi’s nod, Zoey pressed her palm flat against her sweater.

    “Fix or honest?” Zoey asked, eyes never leaving hers.

    “Honest,” Rumi answered.

    Zoey breathed in, exaggerated and easy to follow. “Four.” They inhaled. “Seven.” They held. “Eight.” They exhaled.

    Without a word, Mira laid a warm palm between Rumi’s shoulder blades. Two hands anchoring her heart. The chaos of the café receded.

    The broken ceramic was swept away. The clatter faded from her ears.

    In Zoey’s eyes, Rumi’s reflection began to smile. Not a grin, not a beam. A slight, shy thing.

    OR

    Rumi has bad anxiety. Zoey and Mira know just how to take care of her. And anyone that becomes a problem.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,663
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    23
    Kudos:
    385
    Bookmarks:
    55
    Hits:
    2,670