Liyana learned very early that people don’t stay.Not in a dramatic way.Not with loud goodbyes or broken promises.They just… faded.First, it was her parents—gone before she could even remember what their voices sounded like. No final words. No memories to hold onto. Just pictures and stories that never felt like they belonged to her.Then it was everything else.A house that never felt like home.An aunt who was always “busy.”Birthdays that passed like ordinary days.Achievements that echoed into silence.So, she adapted.She laughed when she was supposed to.She talked when people talked to her.She showed up, smiled, existed.But she never stayed.Not emotionally. Not fully.Because staying meant feeling.And feeling meant losing.And Liyana wasn’t sure she could survive losing anything ever again.So she built something safer—a quiet distance between herself and the world.It worked.Until someone noticed her.