I woke up quietly. Sunlight was already slipping through the curtains, touching the walls in soft gold lines. The house was not noisy. There was no rush, no shouting, no tension in the air. Just calm. I lay on my back for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, my hand resting gently on my stomach. I felt different — not perfect, but steady. I was not crying. I was not shaking. I was not panicking. I was just breathing. Last night came back to me slowly — Clara’s shocked face in the garden, my mother’s firm voice, Daniel standing tall, Maya watching everything, and Ethan walking out without looking back. It still hurt when I thought about it. But the pain was not heavy like before. It was more like something I had accepted, not something crushing me. I sat up slowly and placed both hands on my stomach. “Na just you and me now,” I whispered softly. I stood up carefully. My legs felt normal — not weak, not shaky, just ready. I went into the bathroom and took my time in the s
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