The warning was never hidden. It played out in every friendship she discarded and every confidence she spent. I watched it happen again and again — and still believed I'd be exempt.

I called it keeping the peace. I called it being the fun one. For years, I wore a mask so well I fooled even myself — until the universe started pulling everything to the surface at once.

I whispered a question into the quiet: "Nonny, if you met her before I did... send me a sign." The next morning, something was waiting for me in the garage.