The bus ride felt endless, every minute dragging like the universe had decided to stretch time just to test me. My hand gripped the strap of my bag tightly, the edge of the fabric digging into my palm, grounding me against the gnawing anxiety twisting in my chest. The faint hum of the engine vibrated under my seat, a steady rhythm that failed to drown out the noise in my head. The call replayed itself on an endless loop—Dad in the hospital. Serious. Those two words clung to me like second skin.
The seats around me were sparsely filled—a couple chatting softly near the front, an elderly man who dozed off halfway through, his head nodding with each gentle jolt of the road. Someone a few rows back shuffled through their backpack, the faint crinkle of plastic mixing with the occasional hiss o
