Ella:
I didn’t know where to go.
Didn’t know who to call.
Didn’t even remember how I got in the car.
I just drove. Like muscle memory was doing all the work while my brain curled up in the corner and gave up.
I ended up at the overlook.
Of course I did.
Where the sky stretched wide and the world dropped off into silence. Where I used to come to think. Or cry. Or scream into the void when everything got too heavy. It didn’t matter that I never got out of the car this time. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe past the pressure building in my chest.
So I just sat there.
In the driver’s seat.
And cried.
Fat, hot tears rolled down my cheeks, and I didn’t even bother to wipe them away. What was the point? I wasn’t just crying—I was unraveling. The kind of cry that shook my whole body. T
