The morning air was still. Maya got to the end of the street, the rain has stopped. Her hand trembled slightly as she pulled the suitcase behind her, the wheels rolling over the tiled floor of the front porch.

She didn’t cry. Not anymore. She had shed enough tears already.

This time, she walked away with her head held high.

Each step she took away from the house felt like a chain breaking. She kept reminding herself: You’re not going back. No matter what happens, don’t look back.

Her heart was broken, but she was still standing.

By the time she reached the city, Maya had already made her decision....