When I stepped out and the iron gate closed behind me, the sharp metallic sound felt like the final line of a chapter I had tried too hard to save.
I walked down the street slowly, passing familiar houses that no longer meant anything to me, while the world around me continued as if nothing had changed.
But something felt wrong.
The bag was too light.
A soft breeze passed, and without fully understanding why, I opened it.
There was no trash inside.
Only a sealed envelope, carefully wrapped as if it held something meant to survive everything else.
My hands began to shake before I even opened it.
The first thing I saw was a photograph.
