The door shut behind me with a final, deliberate sound.
I didn't look back.
I couldn't.
The gravel crunched softly beneath my boots as I made my way toward the waiting car. John stood beside it, hands folded in front of him, his posture as straight and steady as always. He didn't say anything when he opened the back door. Just gave me a small nod, like he understood this wasn't the time for words.
I slid into the seat and stared out the window as he closed the door behind me. My hands were shaking in my lap, fingers curling tightly around the edge of my coat. I didn't have a plan beyond this moment—just the knowledge that I couldn't stay. That everything I'd tried to build in that house had cracked apart in a moment.
The engine hummed to life, smooth and quiet, and the estate began to slip away behind us.
I didn't cry. Not this time.
I didn't have the strength to.
"Miss Walker?" John's voice broke the silence gently, almost like he was afraid to disturb it.
