Aya

When morning came, I ensured my room was stripped bare of every trace of myself. All that remained was a card containing the exact amount of money I had calculated Cliffe spent on me over the years and the photo album I couldn’t bring myself to destroy. The memories it held were beautiful, but they were no longer mine to cherish.

With a deep breath, I tore a page from my journal, scribbling the PIN for the card and a single phrase beneath it:

I genuinely wish you happiness.

I placed the card and note on the small table by the window, where he would be sure to find them.

Grabbing my bag, I walked out of the cabin without a second thought. As I reached the front steps, I turned to look at the pack house one last time. For years, it had been my sanctuary, a place that had once felt like home. Now, it was just a reminder of everything I had lost.

I straightened my shoulders, refusing to let sentimentality weaken my resolve. Without a final glance, I strode toward the waiting Uber parked by the front gate.

The curious gazes of pack members followed me, their whispers a low hum in the cold morning air. I ignored them all, keeping my head high, my steps steady.

This was my goodbye, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me.

Before boarding my plane, I sent the videos and pictures Evelyn had used to provoke me. I crafted my messages carefully:

To Cliffe, I attached the files with a simple note:

"You’ve made your choice."

To the media, I sent them anonymously, tagging them:

"They really can’t keep their hands off each other."

Not long after, messages and calls flooded in. But I just turned off the phone and closed my eyes.

The plane took off.

I was ready to embrace a better future, a hidden identity that nobody knew.