Noor found me again in the observation dome. At first, it seemed like a coincidence—until it didn’t. We stood side by side, staring at a winter photo of Earth next to the black glass of Mars, and the contrast hit me harder than I thought it would. Mars is all hard angles, no softness. Earth is that washed-out winter, a patch of light someone called ordinary in the moment. She doesn’t make silence feel like a failure. I needed this.

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