Looking out at the horizon again… I couldn't help but tear up.
I reached for my phone, scrolling aimlessly—hoping for a distraction.
I had already made my decision.
I was going to change my career.
This time… it would be my choice.
But how was I supposed to tell them?
I couldn't live off my inheritance forever. I needed stability.
And I didn't even know what kind of life being a detective would offer… financially or otherwise.
I lifted my gaze to the stars, taking a slow, steady breath.
I still didn't know how to tell my grandparents.
They wouldn't like it.
I knew that.
And the whispers would return—
The same ones I had been trying to silence ever since my parents died.
My chest tightened.
The weight of it all pressed down on me, suffocating.
A sob escaped before I could stop it.
Why did they have to leave so early?
If they were still here… I wouldn't have to carry all of this alone.
I covered my face with my hands.
"I just want to live…" I whispered, my voice breaking.
But even as the words left my lips, guilt followed.
Why was I blaming them?
It wasn't their choice.
It was fate.
A cold night breeze brushed against my face, pushing strands of my hair away.
My vision blurred with tears—
But my memories stayed painfully clear.
How I was abandoned to grief…How my grandparents took me in…How they raised me with care—
And yet, somewhere along the way…
I lost myself.
I couldn't breathe.
Not until I moved in with my uncle.
Only then… I learned what it felt like to breathe again.
Before that—
It was like a shackle around my neck.
Tightening.
Restricting.
Disguised as love.
And maybe that was what hurt the most.
My heart pounded violently against my ribs.
My limbs felt weak.
Like I was about to collapse under the weight of everything I had kept buried for so long.
I wiped my tears away, my heart still pounding violently.
My hands trembled slightly as I lifted the glass and took a sip—as if I could swallow my sorrow along with it.
I forced it down.
Then I stood, moving toward the kitchen sink, washing the single glass in my hand.
Mechanical. Empty.
After that, I walked into the bathroom.
The harsh fluorescent light flickered above me—eerily similar to the one at the police station… and the morgue.
I froze for a moment.
Then I looked up.
At myself.
My mother's golden eyes stared back at me.My father's soft curls framed my face.
I looked like them.
The sink water kept running.
My eyes were puffy. Red-rimmed.My hair was messy. My face pale. My body felt… drained.
I lifted my hand, brushing over my freckles.
They weren't obvious—but I remembered how they used to be pointed out. Mocked.
The first thing they noticed.
The first thing they judged.
But now…
Now that I really looked—
They were beautiful.
I was beautiful.
Even like this.Even messy. Even broken.
Because this was me.
And this mess… was mine.
Standing under the harsh light felt like standing in front of Adel—like facing something I couldn't escape.
The truth.
I splashed water onto my face.
Cold. Sharp. Real.
"I will be a detective," I whispered.
"I will live for myself."
"I won't care about what people think."
My brows furrowed slightly.
All I had to do… was figure out how.
A faint sense of pride flickered inside me.
I used to stand in front of mirrors like this—judging myself. Tearing myself apart.
Trying to fit into a mold that was never mine.
Water droplets slid down my skin.
And somewhere—
Between the mirror… and the silence…
My reflection changed.
It wasn't me anymore.
It was them.
Judging. Cold. Familiar.
"What a failure you are."
"A disgrace."
"What are you doing? Trying to disappoint your grandparents?"
My breath hitched.
"A disappointment even to your parents—who cherished you."
"Good for nothing."
My chest tightened painfully.
"No…" I tried to say.
"I am good."
"I know I am."
Even Adel said it.
The words echoed in my mind—but my voice… wouldn't come out.
It felt like something was choking me.
Like I was suffocating inside my own body.
t felt like shackles wrapped around my body.
Tight.
Unforgiving.
I couldn't even move—couldn't step away from that confrontation.
"Why are you silent?"
My reflection spoke—cold, cruel.
"I'll tell you why… because you know what I'm saying is true."
"You've been running from it your whole life."
Why…?
Why was even I fighting myself?
Why was no one on my side?
I just wanted to live.
Was that a crime?
If it was—
Then so be it.
I lifted my gaze.
My reflection wore a cruel smile.
"You think Adel will like you?" she scoffed, crossing her arms.
"It won't take him long to realize his mistake."
"He'll abandon you."
My breath hitched.
"And that new friend of yours—Charles?"
She laughed softly.
"He'll look at you… up and down… and see exactly what you are."
Her finger pointed at me—
Like I was nothing.
Like I was worthless.
A sob tore through my chest.
I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, trying to hold myself together.
"You think you can become a detective?"
She gasped in mock surprise.
"Oh, please."
"You'll quit in a few months."
"Just like your grandmother says… unfit for a lady."
"Truly… a loser."
Her voice kept going—
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
She dragged everything out—
My parents' death.The whispers.The ridicule.The dreams that were crushed before they could even breathe.
Every failure.
Every wound.
Over and over again—
Like a broken record I couldn't shut off.
Then—
She laughed.
Hysterical. Loud. Echoing.
"You bring misfortune to everyone who stands by you."
The sound filled the bathroom, bouncing off the walls, drilling into my ears.
I dropped to the cold tiles.
Curled into myself.
Holding onto whatever pieces I had left.
Was I that terrible?
Had I done something unforgivable… to deserve this?
Even myself—
Couldn't stand me.