A tired nurse wrote: “Some storms come to wash away the wrong roads.”

One grey Tuesday, a man in a wet coat sat down across from her. He pointed at the sign.

He wrote: “The rain isn’t crying for you. It’s reminding you that you’re still here to feel something.”

“On rainy days, we are all just people looking for a window to share our weather.”

Lena added it to the notebook, now thick with folded papers, coffee stains, and tiny drawings. She realized she wasn’t just collecting quotes. She was collecting proof that everyone— everyone —had a rainy corner in their heart.