Startled by the alert, she reached for her phone. A text from her mother: “Made it home safe? Don’t forget to eat something. Love you.”

Juniper smiled faintly, warmth blooming in her chest. She typed back: “Yes, home safe. Will eat soon. Love you too.”

The city lights outside seemed to shimmer in response, each one a tiny beacon in the vast expanse. She gazed out at the sprawling metropolis, a sea of possibilities and challenges.

“Everyone is where they belong,” she murmured. “I think?”

As she prepared for bed, she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. Perhaps she didn’t have all the answers. Perhaps it was okay to feel uncertain.

Climbing under the covers, she closed her eyes, the distant sounds of the city lulling her toward sleep.

“At what cost?” she thought again, the question echoing softly before fading into the quiet depths of slumber.