CHAPTER 80: Neon Lights, Crimson Shadows - Part 3

I don’t know how long I stayed locked inside that washroom. Time dissolved into pain.

First came the sickness — violent, uncontrollable. I bent over and puked until my lungs burned, until my body shook with exhaustion.

Then came the tears. Endless, merciless tears that clawed their way out of me until I was nothing but a hollow shell. I cried my heart out, sobbing until my throat was raw, until my chest ached, until there was simply nothing left to give.

When the tears finally dried and my body surrendered to silence, I sat there trembling, staring at my reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink. My makeup was smeared, mascara streaking down my cheeks like war paint, lipstick faded into a ghost of color. I looked broken.

But then, slowly, I began to wipe it all away.

Each stroke of the tissue felt like peeling back a layer of fog. Erasing the smudges, clearing the stains, I felt something shift inside me — as if an invisible veil had lifted.

For the first time in weeks, I could