But then I pushed the thought aside. They’d said this was my room, and no one had come to stop me yet.
I got dressed—light clothes, soft fabric, comfortable and non-restricting. Something I could move in. Something I could breathe in.
Then came the question again: What now?
I glanced at the window. The sun was sinking lower, casting golden streaks across the floorboards. I wasn’t tired enough to sleep, and the room suddenly felt too small.
So I left.
Down the stairs. Past the silent hallway. Through the large, arched front doors that creaked open like they were letting secrets out.
The air outside hit different. Cooler, clearer. Like it hadn’t been suffocating me all day.
I walked. No real direction, no destination. Just moved my legs and followed the pull of instinct. It took me be
