The door finally opened slowly, letting rays of the setting sun fall in. And there she was.
Cathy stepped in, shoulders slightly hunched beneath a faded black hoodie. A black tracksuit clung to her frame, creased and dusted from travel. She wasn't wearing heels like she used to—just worn sneakers that muffled her steps on the marble floor. Her hair, once perfectly styled, was now tied back in a messy knot, a few strands falling over her face.
And yet, even in that state, there was something about her: the quiet grace, the steady way she scanned the room that reminded me of who she used to be—the woman who once ruled every space she walked into.
When her eyes met mine, she froze. For a moment her lips parted, but no sound came out.
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” I said quietly, ri
