(Beverley’s POV)
The knock on my door came later that evening, just when I thought I could finally have some peace after the long, emotionally draining day. I was sitting cross-legged on my bed with my laptop open in front of me, staring at the bright screen showing the official NYU acceptance letter and all the housing information I’d been excitedly researching for months. The photos of the dorm rooms, the campus tours, the move-in dates, and the promise of independence, it all felt like a lifeline. The promise of moving out, starting fresh on my own terms, and finally getting some real distance from this broken, suffocating house had been the one thing keeping me going through all the chaos of the divorce and everything that came after.
“Come in,” I called, already feeling uneasy as I
