For a full minute, Lena just sat there, the phone warm in her palm. Then she typed: Hey. Grandma said you have my music box.
But tonight, her grandmother had called. “Leo came by the house,” she’d said, her voice thin and old. “Brought your old music box. The one your father fixed for you. Said you’d left it at his place. He looked… thin, Lena. Sad.”
Her thumb hovered over the search results. The first link was from Apple Support—clean, sterile, procedural. Go to Settings > Messages > Blocked Contacts. She’d known that. She’d blocked Leo three months ago after that terrible fight in the rain outside the coffee shop. The one where he’d said she was “too much” and she’d said he was “incapable of feeling anything.” how to unblock on imessage
His reply came fast: Probably.
Another message: I’m outside.
Now she typed the only true thing: I unblocked you. Not sure why. Goodnight.
Leo. It’s late. But I unblocked you.
Lena had hung up and stared at the music box on her nightstand—except it wasn’t there. It was still at Leo’s. He’d kept it for three months. Or maybe he’d just found it under the bed. Either way, the box was a key. A key to a door she’d welded shut.