Elena’s Point Of View

I sat cross-legged on the bed, the duvet a mess beneath me, papers scattered across the sheets like a storm I hadn’t yet cleaned up. Folders stacked half-open, receipts folded into worn envelopes, property documents with my name scrawled on the edges, everything I’d quietly collected, piece by piece, in preparation for this moment.

Escape.

The word sat in my chest like both a curse and a promise.

I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling slow, steady, the way ...