Anisha stood outside the wrought-iron gates longer than she intended to.
The house beyond them was everything she remembered—grand, distant, and quietly intimidating. The white walls gleamed under the afternoon sun, and the tall glass windows reflected a life that had once felt within her reach. Jasmine's world. A world Anisha had walked out of… or perhaps been pushed out of, depending on how honest she wanted to be with herself.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
She had rehearsed this moment all night. Every word, every apology, every explanation. But now that she was here, standing in front of the place where everything had unraveled, her mind felt blank.
Coward, she thought.
She could still turn back. No one had seen her. No one would know she had come.
But then the image of her mother coughing violently on the hospital bed flashed in her mind, sharp and unforgiving. The doctor's voice followed.
"If the payment isn't made by the end of the week…"
