Son compartido

Sometimes… the deepest pain doesn’t scream. It sings. Softly… Beautifully… And if you listen closely… you can hear the breaking inside it. The room was quiet… almost too quiet. White walls. A faint smell of medicine in the air. And in the middle of it all… sat Tabitha. Nineteen. Fragile. And holding on to the only thing that had never left her— Her voice. She sat in her wheelchair, eyes closed… singing. 🎵 “Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders…” 🎵 Her voice was soft… but it