She walks through the room, a vision of silk and light, yet surrounded by an invisible wall. Everyone admires, but no one dares. The silence around her is a tribute and a prison. Then she turns, and her eyes—sharp, knowing—find mine in the crowd. A slow, genuine smile breaks through the polished perfection. It’s the same smile from twenty years ago, the one she flashed when we shared a bag of sour candy behind the gym, plotting our escape from recess. The wall crumbles, just for us.