(Aaron's POV)
I watch her receding figure disappear down the darkened path, and despite everything, despite the fact that she just rejected me, I smile.
"Yes, from now on, you don't need anyone," I whisper to the wind that carries her scent away from me. "Not me. Not Tyron Stone. You will have to fight your own battles, Sanya. And win."
Because she will win, I know this with a certainty that settles deep in my bones, she's stronger than anyone gives her credit for, stronger than even she realizes, and the woman who just walked away from this cliff with her head held high is not the same broken girl who stood at the edge ready to jump.
I glance at my hand.
Shockingly, it's transparent.
The skin that was solid just hours ago now looks like smoke, like I'm made of nothing more than mist
