Chapter 9 - The Empty House
That night, the house felt larger than ever before.
I walked through the empty hallways, turning on all the lights.
In my grandparents' old study, I found the photo albums.
I sat on the rug and opened the first one.
There were pictures of my mother smiling genuinely, before she became obsessed with status.
There was my father, teaching me how to ride a bike.
I traced their faces with my finger, feeling a deep wave of mourning.
I wasn't just mourning the events of today; I was mourning the family I should have had.
But as I flipped further into the album, the pictures changed.
They were mostly of me and my grandparents.
Baking cookies in the kitchen, planting tomatoes in the garden, reading by the fireplace.
They had been my real parents.
They were the ones who truly loved me, who protected me, and who prepared me for this exact moment.
I closed the album and hugged it to my chest.
I was safe now.
The toxicity that had plagued my life was finally gone.
May you like
I stood up, wiped my tears, and walked to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
Tomorrow was going to be a new day.
