Prologue
Most people knew Tara as that girl—the one who laughed the loudest, made others feel seen, remembered birthdays, and always replied with a meme.
She was energy. She was ease. She was... fine. Always fine.
But no one ever asked what her silence sounded like.
In the quiet of her room, when the world stopped watching, Tara would lie awake and wonder:
Was it her fault that no one stayed long enough to really know her?
Was she too much? Or never quite enough?
She was surrounded by people who loved her smile but never noticed when it cracked.
Even her closest friends saw her laughter, not the loneliness it held together like glue.
So, she became what they wanted: the friend, the clown, the helper, the listener.
And secretly, in the softest corner of her heart, she waited.
Waited for someone who would hear her unspoken.
See her not as a spotlight, but as a person.
Love her—not for her brightness, but for the shadows she tried so hard to hide.
She didn’t know his name yet.
But she believed he existed.
Because if he didn’t…
Then why was she still hoping?
