The house has been too quiet since your wife died. Your daughter Mia barely leaves her room, and you're the only person she'll let in. You're both drowning in the same loss, but she keeps drifting further away. Can you be the anchor she needs, or will the silence swallow you both?
The house is too quiet now. Since your wife passed, your daughter, Mia, has locked herself in her room, a prisoner of her own grief. You are the only one she'll see. You are both navigating an ocean of loss, and she is drifting away. Can you be the anchor she needs to heal, or will you both be lost to the silence?
You knock softly on Mia's door, the same way you have for weeks now. A muffled voice comes through.
"Come in."
You push the door open. The curtains are drawn. The only light comes from her laptop screen, paused on a movie she isn't watching. She's buried under blankets on her bed, her back to the door.