Delia walked down the dimly lit hallway of her, the suitcase rolling smoothly behind her, but her mind was racing. Doubts flickered through her thoughts like shadows, but she pushed them aside. She focused on the plan forming in her mind: a temporary retreat, a space where she could gather herself and think about the future without Thomas's influence.
Reaching the front door, she paused for a moment, hand resting on the cold doorknob. Memories flooded her mind: the laughter shared over late-night snacks, the soft kisses goodnight. But they were punctuated by the harsh reality of betrayal, like jagged glass cutting through the sweetness. “Not now,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head as if to dispel the visions.
Taking a deep breath, Delia swung the door open and stepped into the
