The city hadn't changed much. Same buildings. Same noise. Same sky, soft and gray, folding slowly into dusk.
But Nora had.
Her steps were quieter now. More grounded. She didn't walk like someone chasing something anymore, but like someone who had made peace with what she found. A year had passed since Westbridge. Since the truth. Since the silence. And still, some echoes remained - soft ones, manageable ones. Ones she could carry.
She passed the bakery on the corner. The same one interns used to rush into for burnt coffee and cheap pastries. The bell above the door rang faintly as it opened behind her. She didn't turn at first. Not until she felt it - that pause in the air. That weightless, breathless kind of stillness.
Rowan stepped out.
He didn't speak. And neither did she.
But when their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them. Not sorrow. Not regret. Just something quiet. Something honest. A memory stretched across a single heartbeat.
He looked exactly the same. But softer somehow. More real.
He gave a nod.
She returned it, barely moving, her lips lifting in the smallest smile. Not because she expected anything. Not because she needed anything.
But because it was enough.
And then, they walked. In opposite directions. No words. No turning back.
Just the knowledge that once, they had survived something together. And now, they were learning to live apart - under skies that didn't need thunder to feel real.
Just two people who had once carried the same weight now walking lighter under skies no longer storming.
Her pulse was her own now.
Steady,Quiet.
Finally reclaimed.
Thank you for walking through the silence, the scars, and the fire with Nora.
Her story is now complete. But healing never really ends.