Packing my life into boxes felt surreal. The tiny apartment I’d called home for years now seemed foreign, like a place that belonged to someone else—a broken, naive version of me. It was time to leave it all behind.
The job offer from Crestfield City had been a beacon of hope in my darkest hour. My application had been accepted almost immediately, the response practically begging me to join their team. It was the lifeline I hadn’t realized I needed, pulling me away from the suffocating weight of this city and all its betrayals.
As I sealed the last box and took a final look around, a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” I called, brushing my hair out of my face.
The door creaked open, and my landlady, Mrs. Bellamy, stepped inside. Her warm, weathered face held a mixture of sadnes
