The Fault in Our Stars

The card shop had a wall for every possible version of concern. There were cards with flowers, cards with jokes about wine, cards that promised courage in large gold letters. Priya held one with a cartoon dog wearing a crown.

“This is the least terrible,” she said.

“It says ‘you are stronger than you know,’” said Elias. “She will hate it.”

Nora was reading the back of a card with a small painted house. Their friend June had been away for several months and was coming back that evening. Nobody had said much in the group chat except what time the train arrived and who was bringing food.

“What about this one?” Nora asked.

It showed three people on a sofa under one blanket. Inside, the printed message began, “Some people make everything feel less alone.”

Priya put down the dog. “That is worse.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes us sound pleased with ourselves.”

Elias picked up a blank card from a basket near the counter. It was plain cream, with a bent corner. “We could write something normal.”

“Like what?” Nora asked.

For a moment, none of them answered. They knew June would notice if they wrote too carefully. They also knew she would notice if they did not.

Priya took the blank card and opened it. “I can say I still have her blue scarf.”

“You lost her blue scarf,” said Elias.

“I found it last week.”

Nora laughed, then covered her mouth.

Elias found a pen at the counter. Priya wrote about the scarf. Nora added that the film club had watched the terrible sequel without June and regretted it. Elias wrote only, We will be at the station.

Nora chose an envelope while Priya held the card open for the ink to dry.