Page 102 of Mystic's Sunrise

But it didn’t matter. Not the way he thought.

It should’ve been overbeforeI gave him my heart. Before I looked at him and thought maybe this time I wasn’t just something to protect or possess. That maybe I was enough—just as I am. Bruised. Quiet. Still learning how to live in a world without cages.

“She’s gone,” he whispered. “I swear it.”

The pain that bloomed in my chest didn’t come from my throat, though it burned there, too. It came from somewhere deeper—where belief used to live.

He had meant something. Meant everything. And now I didn’t even know who he was, or who I was to him.

Iwantedto believe him. But I’d wanted to believe before.

I believed the man who said I was special right before he defiled me in the most horrific way possible. I believed the one who smiled as he gave me to another man to watch me be abused. I believed the one who swore he loved me—right up until I asked to be free.

Belief had cost me too much already.

Footsteps shifted. He was still there.

“Alright,” he murmured finally, voice retreating like the tide slipping away from the shore. “I’ll give you space.”

And then he was gone.

I didn’t move until the sound of his footsteps vanished completely, each one dragging farther into distance.

When the silence took hold again, I sank down slowly, my back against the door, my knees to my chest, arms wrapped around them. I rested my cheek against the wood and whispered nothing.

Not even his name.

But the silence I gave him was full of everything I couldn’t say—everything I couldn’t let myself feel.

It was heavier than any goodbye.

***

THE BOOK INmy lap had long since blurred.I wasn’t reading. Just… staring. The words danced on the page, mocking me with their quiet beauty, something I no longer felt. I traced the corner with my fingertip until it curled.

Lucy sat on the edge of the bed again. Like she had the day before., and the day before that. Just sat with me in the silence. I hated how loud it was in here, even when no one said a word. The kind of silence that presses against your ribs, heavy and wet, like drowning from the inside.

“Zeynep,” she finally said, her voice low and careful, like she thought I might shatter if she breathed too hard. “You’ve got to talk to someone.”

I blinked once, slowly, but said nothing.

“He made a mistake. A terrible one. But you don’t know the whole story.”

I do not want to know.I didn’t say it, but my body must have. I curled inward, like the words themselves burned.

Lucy exhaled, frustration twisting her lips. “You love him. Don’t you?”

I closed the book. Set it aside on the nightstand. My fingers trembled.Yes, I love him, I wanted to say. Still feel his touch like a ghost against my skin. Still wake up hoping this is all a dream and I will find him sitting in that old chair, watching me like I’m the only thing in this broken world that makes sense.

But I could not give voice to any of it. My throat refused me.

“You can’t let this eat you alive,” Lucy whispered. “You’ve fought too hard, Zeynep. You got out. Youlived.Don’t let a mistake be the reason you fade again.”

I turned my head away. The wall was easier to look at than her pleading eyes.

“Iknowwhat it feels like,” she pushed, firmer now. “To trust someone, to believe they see you—not the pain, not the past—butyou. And then to find out there’s more… secrets… lies…”

A single tear rolled down my cheek, slow and traitorous.