INICIAR SESIÓNLUNA’S POINT OF VIEWI stopped counting the days.At first I tried. I scratched lines in my head. I marked time by meals, by sleep, by the sound of the guard’s boots outside my cell. But somewhere in the third week, it stopped meaning anything. Twenty years is too big to count. It swallows numbers whole.So I stopped.Now I count smaller things.The sound of keys in the morning. The way the evening guard drags his feet. The exact moment the corridor goes quiet at night. The smell of food before it reaches my door.That is what my life is now.Small things.I was sitting on the edge of my bed when I heard them.Three sets of footsteps.I knew them.I always knew them.They did not walk like guards. Guards moved with purpose, but they stopped at every door. These ones did not. They walked straight to mine like they owned the place.My body went still.I did not run. There was nowhere to run.The door opened.They stood there, filling the doorway. Same as before. Same faces. Same empty e
ETHAN’S POINT OF VIEWHe started with the wardrobe.It made sense. That was where most of her things lived. The easiest place to begin. The most obvious place to prove that she was gone.He pulled the doors open and stood there for a long time without moving.Her clothes were still arranged the way she kept them. Dresses to one side. Blouses folded with a care that felt almost excessive. Shoes lined up neatly at the bottom, pairs touching, like they belonged to each other.She had always kept things like that. Orderly. Quiet. Nothing out of place.It irritated him.“Pack everything,” he said without turning. “All of it. I don’t want anything left here by tonight.”The maid stepped in behind him. He could hear the soft rustle of fabric as she reached for the hangers.Ethan walked away.He did not want to watch.He went to the window instead. The city stretched out below him, alive and moving. Cars, people, noise that did not reach this high. Everything looked normal. Like nothing had h
LUNA'S POINT OF VIEWThe bruises had started turning yellow when they came to see me.That dull yellow color that sits under the skin like something old and tired. My eye had gone down a little but it still hurt when I blinked too fast. My ribs were worse. Every breath reminded me they were there. Every movement pulled at something deep inside my chest.I had learned how to move slower.How to sit without showing it.How to breathe shallow so it did not hurt too much.Nobody asked what happened.Nobody cared enough to ask.I was in the common area when the guard called my name."Luna Smith. You have visitors."Visitors.The word felt strange. It did not belong to me anymore.I stood up slowly. My body protested in small ways I had already learned to ignore. I followed the guard down the corridor, past the cells, past the noise, past the smell that never really left this place.The visitation room was cold.Not just the air. The feeling.They were already there.Sara sat like she owned
LUNA’S POINT OF VIEWThe courtroom was colder than I expected. Not just the air. Everything felt cold. The walls, the floor, the way people looked at me like I was already decided.I sat beside my lawyer and kept my hands in my lap so no one would see them shaking. I had not slept. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Rose on the floor again. The blood. The way her body had looked too still. And then Ethan’s voice, flat and final. She’s dead.My throat tightened. I forced myself to breathe.“You need to stay calm,” my lawyer whispered. “We will challenge the evidence.”I nodded, even though something inside me already knew this was not going to go the way it should.People kept walking into the room. Quiet voices. Papers shifting. Chairs scraping softly. It all sounded normal. Too normal for a place where someone’s life was about to be decided.I did not look for Ethan, but I felt him when he walked in. Some people you feel without seeing. My chest tightened anyway.The hearing started.
LUNA'S POINT OF VIEWThey left me alone for a long time.I did not know how long. Time did not move properly in that place. It stretched and folded and stopped making sense. There were no windows I could see clearly. Just a small opening high on the wall that let in a dull grey light that never seemed to change.I sat on the bench with my back against the wall and my hands in my lap.They had taken everything from me.My phone. My bag. My ring.My mother’s ring.I kept rubbing my thumb against the empty space where it should have been. Over and over again like I could still feel it there if I tried hard enough.It felt wrong.Everything felt wrong.The room smelled like metal and something old. Like something that had been left behind too many times. The air was cold. Not the kind of cold that makes you shiver. The kind that settles into your bones slowly and refuses to leave.I tried to think.I tried to make sense of it.Rose on the floor.The blood.The maid’s voice.I saw everythi
LUNA’S POINT OF VIEWThe salon was too loud.I did not notice it at first.When I walked in, it felt normal. The low hum of dryers. Women talking over each other. Laughter that came and went in waves. The sharp smell of products mixing in the air.It should have been comforting.It was not.I sat in the chair and watched myself in the mirror while the stylist moved behind me, fingers running through my hair, sectioning it, lifting it, asking me questions I barely heard.Just a trim.That was all I said.Just the ends.Something small.Something that belonged to me.Something that had nothing to do with that house.With Ethan.With Sara.With the weight that had been pressing on my chest since the party.I stared at my reflection.I looked the same.That was the strange part.Nothing on my face showed what I felt.No one looking at me would know that everything inside me had shifted.That something had broken.That something had changed.The scissors moved.Soft. Precise.Small pieces







