But the internet, for once, was kind. Howlite. Just polished stones people use to calm anxiety, to ground themselves when the world feels too loud. In that instant, the fear shifted into something else: guilt, tenderness, a quiet ache. My “silly” little brother, quietly carrying his own way of coping, never saying a word. I put one stone back into his backpack, gently, almost like an apology—and kept another on my desk, to remind me how much our loved ones hide behind a simple zip.
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