Lilian's POV
The autumn air cut through my jacket with sharp, bitter teeth. My suitcase wheels scraped against the cracked pavement as I walked, each step echoing in the empty streets. I felt like a shadow of myself, drifting through a world that suddenly seemed foreign.
One brutal truth kept hammering at my consciousness: everything would have been different if Augusto had never entered my life.
Let the Sterling legacy crumble to dust. That destruction paled in comparison to this hollow ache consuming my chest. I could have rebuilt from nothing, carved out a new existence from scratch. At least then I wouldn't be drowning in this suffocating weight.
I paused beneath a flickering streetlight, tilting my face toward the starless sky. My lungs struggled to pull in enough air.
The question haunted me: how many days, weeks, months would it take to purge Augusto from my memory? When would this gaping wound in my heart finally begin to heal?
