Mindy stepped into the only room left in the house, the one right beside Viola’s. She closed the door behind her and stood there for a moment, just staring.
The room felt unreal. Soft grey walls, ivory curtains, warm bedside lamps glowing like honey. Everything looked clean, expensive, peaceful.
After growing up around cracked concrete, thin walls, shouting neighbors, and streets that never truly slept, this place felt like something from another life.
A thick rug covered the floor, soft under her sore feet. She took a few slow steps across it, almost afraid to dirty anything.
For the first time in days, maybe weeks, there was no smell of smoke, blood, dust, or fear hanging in the air. It made her chest tighten in a strange way.
She did not belong in a room like this, and she knew it.
