The cabin was quiet. Almost too quiet. But I needed that—needed the stillness, the feeling of a fresh start surrounding me. I set my small bag down on the wooden kitchen table and let out a long breath. This was home now. No more cold stares from my family, no more flinching at the sound of footsteps, no more walking on eggshells to avoid his anger.
I ran my fingers along the smooth counter, taking it all in. The warmth of the wooden walls, the slight creak of the floorboards beneath my steps, the scent of pine lingering in the air. This place wasn’t haunted by my past.
It was mine.
Moving to my suitcase, I pulled out the orange prescription bottle. My fingers hesitated on the cap before I twisted it off and shook out the small white pills into my palm. The familiar weight of them remin
