Anna could no longer stay where her mother was.
The air felt too heavy, too thick with words that had never been spoken and truths that had been buried for far too long. So when she turned away, she didn't look back. Not once.
Her heels hit the pavement harder than necessary as she walked toward her car, her mind a storm she couldn't quiet.
Delete the photo.
Forget it.
Roseline's words echoed in her head, sharp and relentless, like a broken record she couldn't shut off.
Forget it.
As if the truth could simply be erased with the tap of a screen. As if years of confusion, self-doubt, and quiet loneliness could be undone by pretending nothing had happened.
Anna's hands trembled as she unlocked her car and slid inside, shutting the door with more force than she intended. The familiar smell of leather and faint perfume usually calmed her. Today, it did nothing.
