Celyne POV
The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled with clothes I wasn’t sure I would ever wear.
My hands moved slowly, folding shirts and placing them inside like I was packing pieces of a life I no longer recognized.
Behind me, Clara leaned against the doorframe, watching in silence for a long moment.
Then she sighed.
“Is this really what you want?” she asked softly.
Her voice carried the concern she had been holding back since morning.
“To go back there… after everything?”
My hands paused over the suitcase.
After everything.
The words felt heavier than the clothes I was packing.
The memories of that house—of the life I once had there—were still sharp enough to cut.
I took a slow breath before answering.
“I don’t have a choice.”
Clara frowned slightly.
“There’s alway
