“She loved you,” he said. “That’s why she left.”
The words fractured me. Ten years of searching, of believing she had vanished, when the truth had been inside these walls all along.
Felix was taken away. And I was left not with closure, but clarity.
The next morning, I packed a bag. I left everything behind except the bracelet. Before I walked out, I dialed her number. It went to voicemail, as always.
But this time, my words were different. “I know now,” I whispered. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
Ten years of silence had buried the truth. Now, it was rising. And I wasn’t going to stop looking.
