Maya’s pov

The taxi pulled up to the curb, a towering glass building reflecting the midday sun. My stomach fluttered with nerves, a mix of excitement and apprehension. This was it. I was out. Really out. Rehab had been hard, necessary, but hard. Every day felt a little less cloudy, a little more mine, my hands not shaking as much, my thoughts staying clearer. A slow climb, but I was on my way. And Daniel, he had been my constant. My rock.

I paid the driver, clutching the small bouquet of ...