Myles stepped out of the tent and continued walking without pause. He had already made the decision to leave everything behind.
The flap fell shut quietly behind him, but he did not turn or slow down to acknowledge it. His steps carried him forward in a steady rhythm that took him farther from the group, from the weight of their presence, and from the suffocating atmosphere that had settled inside that confined space.
The air outside felt colder against his skin now. But it did little to ease the heaviness pressing deep within his chest.
The camp around him remained restless, filled with people who no longer knew what direction their lives were supposed to take.
Some of them sat in silence with hollow expressions, while others spoke in uncertain voices without confidence or clarity.
Grief lingered openly across their faces, blending with confusion and fear. It was clear that none of them had found any sense of stability after everything that had happened.
