The morning after everything broke felt strangely calm.
Not peaceful — just quiet in a heavy way, like the air was holding its breath.
I woke up before anyone else. The sky outside my window was pale, almost gray, and the house was still. No voices. No rushing footsteps. No clinking plates.
Just silence.
For a long moment, I lay there staring at the ceiling, my hand resting softly on my stomach. My mind replayed everything from the night before — Ethan walking out, my mother’s cold words, Daniel standing firm, Maya watching everything like a judge in a courtroom.
My chest tightened.
But beneath the fear, there was something else I had not felt in weeks: clarity.
The lie was out.
Messy, painful, public — but out.
I sat up slowly, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My body f
