The words fractured me. Ten years of searching, of believing she had vanished, when the truth had been inside these walls all along.
Felix was taken away. And I was left not with closure, but clarity.
The next morning, I packed a bag. I left everything behind except the bracelet. Before I walked out, I dialed her number. It went to voicemail, as always.
But this time, my words were different. “I know now,” I whispered. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
Ten years of silence had buried the truth. Now, it was rising. And I wasn’t going to stop looking.
