The soft hum of the air conditioner drifted through the quiet apartment, mingling with the faint, comforting scent of cinnamon tea that had long gone cold on the coffee table. The room felt still—too still. Eliana sat curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, wrapped in the oversized hoodie she'd thrown on hours ago. Her honey-brown eyes were fixed on the window, where the city stretched into an endless sea of shadows and light. Neon signs flickered faintly in the distance, their glow bleeding into the night like heartbeat pulses against the darkness.
Her father was asleep in the next room, his gentle snores barely audible through the wall. Every box was packed, every suitcase lined by the door like silent witnesses waiting for tomorrow's flight. She was supposed to be excited, supposed to feel the thrill of a fresh start waiting on the other side of the ocean.
But her heart felt unbearably heavy.
