Zoe's POV
I couldn't stay inside any longer. The house was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet—the kind that wraps around you like a blanket and allows you to breathe. No. This one pressed down on my chest. Heavy. Empty. Lonely.
I sat at the edge of my bed for a long moment, staring at nothing, my crutches leaning against the wall like a reminder of everything I couldn't do. Then I pushed myself up. Carefully. My injured leg protested immediately, a dull ache shooting up my side, but I ignored it. I had gotten used to the pain now—like background noise that never really went away.
I reached for the crutches, steadying myself before taking my first step. Then another. And another. Slow. Measured. The hallway stretched longer than usual as I made my way out, the sound of the crutches tapping against the floor echoing faintly in the silence. No voices. No laughter. No music. Just me.
