Loretta didn’t want to be in the house. Not with the walls still echoing that girl’s imaginary laughter or Martin’s smile that had never, not once, been for her.
The house felt colder than usual, like even the light had chosen sides. Her phone buzzed once, she didn’t check it.
Uncle Raymond had been disturbing her with messages of him wanting to see it. Loretta was not just in the mood for anybody.
She threw on a hoodie and jeans, slipped her phone into her pocket, and walked out. The cold air hit her like a slap, but she welcomed it. Anything was better than sitting in that room, pretending she wasn’t breaking apart.
The door clicked shut behind her, sealing off the life she was starting to hate.
And then she left the house.
She didn’t tell him. She didn't have to. He left that mor
