The address was easy enough to find, a digital breadcrumb in the vast, indifferent internet. But the real sting came with the next few clicks: a perfect, curated life, splashed across a glowing screen. New smiles, new friends, new everything. Like the last five years never happened. Like She never happened. The pictures showed a meticulously kept garden, a sleek, unfamiliar car in the driveway, even a ridiculous, fluffy dog trotting happily beside them. No trace of the life I’d known, the life they had built.
Valerie stood across the street, rain plastering her hair to her face, the chill seeping into the very marrow of her bones. Each raindrop felt like a tiny, frozen accusation. Her body ached with a dull, persistent throb, a constant reminder of the hard cot and stale air She’d grown accustomed to. вы’s laughter drifted across the street, a sound she hadn't heard in so long, and it ripped through Valerie, colder than any winter wind. Her heart, against all odds, began to pound, a frantic, desperate rhythm that felt alien in her chest. Or maybe it was just numb. A cold, heavy numbness that settled deep, even as a scorching fire of resentment ignited in her gut.
Her knuckles were white, clenched so tight her nails dug into my palms. Five years. And they just… forgot. The front door opened, spilling warm light onto the porch. вы stepped out, still oblivious, still bright. Still whole.
Every muscle in Valerie's body tensed. Her jaw set, a grim, determined line. Her eyes, narrowed and burning with a silent fury, locked onto them. There was no flicker of hesitation. No fear. Just a stark, unyielding accusation in their depths. She stepped from the shadows, her presence a cold, sudden shock, her gaze screaming the one truth she had carried with her for half a decade: You owe me everything.
