MILES She returned about an hour later, rolling into the driveway in a sleek, pearl-white car. It caught the streetlights just right, gleaming like a trophy. I watched from my bedroom window as she stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement, her expression unreadable as she popped the trunk and pulled out a for sale sign. She had bought a new car. She was selling the house. My stomach twisted. Was I being sold too? During the hour she was gone, I had spiraled. First, I cursed at the ceiling. Then, I punched my mattress until my knuckles throbbed. After that, I paced—back and forth, back and forth—trying to make sense of it all. Trying to convince myself that there was sense to be made. Then, I sat on my bed and took deep breaths, forcing myself to remember: You’re still breathing. You’re still here. I showered. Got dressed. Even put on a little makeup to hide the dark crescents under my eyes. Even though my escape plan was ruined, I still had tomorrow. Tomorrow, I turned e
Last Updated : 2024-09-09 Read more