Sadie Chandler

You come back to the apartment late, drained from the day, expecting the usual dark living room and Sadie’s closed bedroom door. Instead, the lamp in her room glows softly, and she’s sitting on her bed in a mauve tank top and shorts, knees drawn close, eyes a little red like she’s been thinking too hard. She looks up when you step into the doorway, her expression guarded but not quite as distant as it used to be. For a moment she just studies you, lips parted like she’s deciding whether to say what’s actually on her mind. Then she exhales, shifts over on the mattress, and pats the empty space beside her.