The first signs are small enough that people can pretend they missed them. A man forgets where his sentence was going. Someone across the table looks at her outfit, looks away, then checks again while reaching for her glass.

Then comes the casual line that is never as casual as it sounds: “Wait, you look different.” Too quick. Too flat. Like the person heard it leave their mouth and tried to make it smaller.

Her loud friend goes quiet for a beat. The group chat gets one extra heart on the photo. Nobody announces that anything has changed, but the room starts behaving like it has.