Isabella
I didn’t go back to the therapy wing.
I didn’t go anywhere important, really. My feet just moved before my brain finished deciding where I was supposed to be. I walked past the elevators, past the waiting area and past people talking in low, careful voices like the world was something fragile they were all trying not to break.
Eventually, I ended up somewhere quiet.
It wasn't much, just a narrow corridor tucked behind one of the older sections of the building. The kind of place no one bothered decorating because no one was supposed to linger here.
Perfect.
A sigh slid past my lips as I pressed my back lightly against the wall and exhaled. I did it once, twice, but it didn't help.
My fingers wouldn’t stay still and I stared at them like they belonged to someone else entire
