When the dialog box finally offered the "Open folder" button, Mara didn't click. Instead she opened a new tab and typed a name she hadn't used in years: Noah Carter. The social networks returned the same polite emptiness—no updates, no profile photos, only a terse obituary in a small hometown paper dated three years ago. She had missed the funeral; she had told herself work, exhaustion, life. Regret wore its own quiet coat.
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