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The Storm The rain had been falling all afternoon, tapping against the tall windows of Harbor’s Edge Library like a restless drummer. Clara sat tucked away in her favorite corner, the attic stairs creaking faintly above her. Few people ever ventured up there; the attic was a place of dust and shadows, where forgotten books
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For 2,558 days, I lived in a world that looked whole from the outside but was fractured within. I once imagined betrayal in its most obvious forms—infidelity, violence, the kind of wounds that leave visible scars. I thought that if you had broken me in those ways, at least the wreckage would make sense. I
