I walked to the front door and opened it. The evening air was cool, smelling of damp earth and pine needles. I walked down the sidewalk, my steps heavy and deliberate. I stopped in front of Evelyn’s house.

The porch light was off. The windows were dark. I looked at the front door, the same shade of blue as the one I had grown up behind. I reached out to touch the railing, and I felt a strange, quiet calm settle over me. It wasn’t the kind of peace that heals, but the kind that comes when you stop running from the truth.

I didn’t knock. I just stood there, watching the house, knowing that tomorrow, I would have to find the courage to walk up those steps. I stood there until the streetlights flickered to life, one by one, lighting the way back to the house that was no longer my home. I didn’t feel angry anymore. I just felt very, very tired.