That night, the house felt unbearably silent. Deviana stood in the living room, her gaze empty as it swept across the space. Every corner of the house had once been a witness to her love with Adrian—also to the wounds that cut deeper each passing day. In her hand was a black suitcase, already packed since the afternoon.

No tears fell this time. Only a cold stillness wrapped around her, like a frozen ocean swallowing every storm inside her heart.

On Adrian’s desk, she placed a letter. Her handwriting was neat, yet sharp and piercing.

"I choose to leave before I am completely destroyed. Don’t look for me."

After writing...