The apartment no longer felt like home after the revelation.
It felt cold.
Seraphina sat alone on the couch long after the woman she had called mother disappeared out of the apartment.
A contract.
The word kept replaying inside her head like torture.
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and stared blankly at the family picture sitting on the center table.
Now Seraphina could not stop wondering whether the smile had been real or simply part of the job. Her throat burned painfully. Suddenly, breathing inside the apartment became difficult.
The walls felt too close. The silence was too loud.
Her chest tightened harder until she abruptly stood up from the couch. She grabbed her hoodie from the chair and wiped angrily at her tears before rushing toward the door.
The moment she stepped outside, a cold evening wind slapped against her face. But somehow it still felt easier to breathe out there than inside that apartment.
