She could stay. She could go. But for the first time, it felt like the choice was hers. The next morning, Elise woke up before sunrise. The house was still. No groans in the floorboards, no wind tapping the shutters. Just light creeping softly through the blinds, like the world was trying not to wake her too soon.
She made coffee and stood barefoot in the kitchen, staring out at the yard. The fog was lifting. She thought about the attic. The boxes. The weight of it all. And how, somehow, it had begun to feel lighter. Not because anything had changed—but because she had finally looked.