The promise hung in the air like a vow to the universe — clean this time.
But deep down, Lynn knew nothing came clean without a fight.
Lwandile kissed her forehead gently. "Then we do it your way."
For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe. Like she wasn't running. Like she wasn't hiding.
But peace doesn't last long when your past still has your name on its lips.
The door creaked open.
Both of them turned.
And there he was.
> "Well, well," Jayden drawled, stepping into the dimly lit room. "Starting something new without saying goodbye?"
Lynn's jaw tightened. Her spine straightened.
> "You don't belong here," she said coldly.
Jayden laughed — but there was no warmth in it. "I belong wherever your sins are buried. And guess what? They're starting to stink."
Lwandile stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. "I suggest you leave before I forget I'm trying to be clean too."
Jayden didn't flinch. He looked Lynn dead in the eyes.
> "You really think you can rewrite your story, Lynn? That you can erase me?"
> "I already did," she said, stepping toward him. "You're just the smear I haven't wiped off yet."
His smirk faded.
> "I know what you did to get here. And if you won't admit it, I will."
Lynn's heart pounded, but she didn't back down. Not this time.
> "Then do it," she whispered. "Expose me. Burn it all down. Just remember—I'll survive the flames. You won't."