Top | Secret Therapy Lexi

Neighbors thought she was eccentric — that was safer than guessing the truth. In the quiet hours she’d lie awake cataloguing what the vial could not fix: the way mornings felt like borrowed time, the names of people who left footprints in places she couldn’t reach. Still, the bottle was honest in one way: it never promised to make her whole. It only promised relief, tidy and temporary, like a window opened in a shut room.