CHAPTER 3: LEAVING THE HOUSE WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE
The next morning, Camila moved on autopilot. When Tyler snapped at her to clean his mess and sneered, “If you hate it so much, the door’s right there,” something inside her finally loosened.
“You’re right,” she said—softly, calmly.
Upstairs, she called her friend Nora, poured out the truth in one trembling breath, and packed a single bag: IDs, documents, necessities. Downstairs, Ethan barked for breakfast.
“Where do you think you’re going with that bag?” he demanded.
“Laundry,” Camila lied.
She walked out the front door and didn’t look back until she reached Nora’s small flower shop—where her strength collapsed, and she broke down into arms that felt safe, sobbing out years of swallowed pain.
