At first, Ivy Mae thought the story belonged only to the past.
A different time. A louder world.
But weeks later, she began to notice small things.
Nothing obvious.
Just… echoes.
A gathering that felt slightly off, even though everyone smiled. A conversation where words were spoken, but nothing truly landed. A moment where the air felt heavier than it should have been.
“You feel that too?” Ivy Mae asked one evening.
Jas looked up. “Feel what?”
Ivy hesitated. It was difficult to describe something without shape.
“Like something’s there,” she said. “But no one acknowledges it.”
Jas studied her for a moment, then shrugged gently.
“Maybe you’re just noticing more.”
Maybe.
But that wasn’t what her aunt had said.
You learn to notice everything.
That night, Ivy Mae lay awake longer than usual.
Not unsettled.
Not afraid.
Just aware.
Wondering if the world they lived in wasn’t as quiet as it seemed.
Wondering if silence was not absence—but adaptation.
And whether the old world had truly disappeared…
or simply shifted into the background.
Hidden in plain sight.
Waiting in the spaces no one was fully listening to.