On the night I left, grief and rage braided together so tightly I could barely breathe, but my hands moved with a calm I didn’t recognize as my own. I set the three cages on the table, slid the folded note beneath the rent ledger Iris had printed, and walked out before sunrise while Miami still hummed in sodium orange. By the time Austin found my handwriting, my ship had already carved a clean line through the black water, and the life they’d stacked on my spine had beg… Continues…
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