"An hour ago," Malina choked out, the sound of her own sobbing nearly drowning out the words.
"Auntie said it was sudden. The pneumonia... her lungs just couldn't fight anymore. Tanz, they've been calling Lia for the last sixty minutes. Why isn't she answering?"
Tanz's hand began to shake, the phone feeling like a lead weight against his ear.
He looked at the kitchen counter where Spinelia had been standing just moments ago, vibrant and angry. He remembered the silence while she was cleaning—the way she was so focused on the floor, her phone tucked away, ignored.
While she was scrubbing away his mess, her world was falling apart in digital notifications she couldn't see.
"She... her phone was on silent," Tanz whispered, his voice breaking. "She was here, Malina. She was right here and I... I asked her to cook."
The Thanos ring he had joked about on his screen seemed to mock him now. He had been planning a future while her past was being ripped away.
"I have to go," Tanz said abruptly, hanging up without waiting for a reply.
He immediately began to type, his fingers trembling.
"Babe, are you okay?"
"Your grandma died... your mom told Malina but your phone is on silent.."
He waited, watching the screen. No read receipt. He called her once. Twice. By the twenty-first time the call went to voicemail, the panic was a physical weight in his chest. He figured she was still furious about the argument.
"Are you still mad?"
"I'm sorry.."
"Spinelia?"
"Do you need some time?"
"I can wait."
"I'll give you space for a bit to cool off.."
"I love you, okay?"
On the other side of town, Spinelia lay in the dark, exhausted by the asphyxiating weight of her own mind. When she finally woke up and saw the wall of notifications, her paranoia twisted every word.
She didn't see a man trying to comfort her; she saw a man who was tired of the drama. To her, giving space was just a polite way of saying he was leaving her in the dirt. She felt the endless puddle of despondency rising again. She didn't just lose her grandmother; in her mind, she had already lost everyone else, too.
While Spinelia was submerged in a heavy, grief-ridden sleep, her phone was a graveyard of missed connections. Even after his initial messages, Tanz couldn't stop. The silence was louder than any argument they'd ever had.
"babe?"
"i'm sorry, okay?"
"are you going home to your parents house?"
"should i come over?"
"can i?"
" babe..?"
"please chat.."
Spinelia saw none of it. Her phone remained on Do Not Disturb, a black mirror reflecting nothing.
In the early hours of the morning, driven by a restless, gnawing guilt, Tanz drove to her apartment. He let himself in, the air feeling stagnant and heavy. He walked to her bedroom door and knocked softly, leaning his forehead against the wood.
"Babe..?" he whispered into the silence. "Lia? Are you asleep? I'm sorry..".
He waited. For minutes, the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator. The quiet was suffocating. Tanz let out a shaky breath, his eyes stinging.
"I guess you don't want to talk.. I'll give you space.. I'm sorry.."
Before he left, he looked around the mess of her living area. He couldn't reach her heart, so he reached for the broom. He spent the next hour cleaning her house, just as she had done for him so many times. He went into the kitchen and cooked—preparing the usual food, leaving it covered on the counter so she would have something to eat when she finally emerged.