It was a hollow numbness built over years—the slow, exhausting process of being compared, replaced, and forced to say "it's fine" until nothing was left inside.I packed up my tripod, my tone measured and quiet."Evangeline, I don't hate you anymore."Her head snapped up, a faint spark of hope rekindling in her eyes."But I will never have you as my friend again," I added.Every last trace of color drained completely from her face. "Willow..."Slinging my camera bag over my shoulder, I brushed right past her. Evangeline stayed rooted to the spot, making no move to follow.When I reached the far end of the coastline, I glanced back once. She was still standing there, her white coat whipped wildly by the wind.I raised my camera, lined up the lens with the final sliver of the setting sun, and pressed the shutter.I registered my new account that very night.The first video was just black sand, crashing waves, and the howl of the wind.I stood in front of the lens, my voice sof
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