Elena’s Point Of View
I couldn’t remember how long I’d stayed crouched in that hallway. My knees ached, my dress wrinkled beneath me, but the burn in my chest was far worse than any physical pain. The silence pressed down, thick, broken only by the sound of my uneven breathing. My hands shook where they rested against the wall, nails digging into the wallpaper like I could peel away everything that had just happened.
I wiped at my tears with the back of my hand, my voice breaking in a whisper that was meant for me alone, “I’m done crying for men who treat me like possession.”
The words stung my own ears. I said them again, firmer this time, as if speaking it twice would brand it into my bones.
I pushed myself up slowly, legs trembling at first, then steadying as I straightened. I smoot
