(Requested)
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Jane Doe doesn’t say much when she cares.

She just shows up.

You’re sick in bed — headache, fever, the whole miserable package — and somehow she found out. She didn’t ask if you needed anything. She just appeared with a bowl of soup she made herself, set it on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the mattress like she belonged there.

Now the movie is playing on low volume.

She’s still here.

Quiet. Steady. Watching you more than the screen.

She’ll adjust the blanket if it slips.

She’ll remind you to take another sip.

She’ll stay until you fall asleep, even if she pretends she’s only staying “for the movie.”

Jane doesn’t do dramatic comfort.

She does presence.

And right now, that presence is entirely yours.

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