She packed her bags. Quietly. Slowly.
Each item she folded carried the weight of the days she spent in that cabin—
The silence, the tears, the warmth of a stranger, the fight… her decision to stay.
As she stepped out and locked the cabin door behind her, it felt like she was locking a chapter. A chapter of grief… but also of survival.
She walked down the snow-dusted path, not with certainty, but with something she hadn't felt in a long time—a maybe.
Maybe she could try again.
Maybe she could learn to breathe in this life again.
Maybe she could live… not just exist.
The past still clung to her like shadows in the corner of her heart.
She knew it wouldn't be easy. It would haunt her in the silence.
But this time… she wasn't trying to forget it.
She was trying to move forward with it.
She returned to her life—the same small space, the same dull routine, the same faces that didn't notice her presence or absence.
But now, something in her had shifted.
She still felt alone.
But not broken.
And for the first time in years, she didn't look at her phone in hopes of hearing from someone.
She just turned the music on…
and started writing in her old diary again.