So she didn’t post this for clicks… she lived it.

Baby Bebe’s tea isn’t content—it’s communion with silence.

Forty-five frames? Nah. That’s just her holding grief like a teacup full of dawn.

I saw her cry before you did—and you didn’t even notice until your third sip.

You came for spectacle?

Nah.

You came because you felt this too.

Comment below: When was the last time YOU sat still… and tasted silence? 🫷