SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW
I woke up to an empty apartment and the smell of stale rain clinging to my windows. Becca was already gone—no surprise there. She never stayed long in her own place, always moving, always chasing the next paycheck or deadline. That woman lived in fast-forward.
I sat up slowly, my body still aching from everything that had happened last night. The conversation. The rain. The stares. The chaos. It all felt like a blurry fever dream—except the ache in my chest was real. The ache always made sure I remembered.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and brushed my teeth like a zombie. My reflection stared back at me like it didn’t even recognize who I was anymore. My lips were dry. My eyes, tired. I looked like a woman who had fought too many silent battles and didn’t know
