Elena POV
I walked into the office with the suicide note still folded in my coat pocket and left with his voice already living under my skin.
“Look at me, Elena. Breathe. And tell me the truth you have never said out loud.”
The waiting room had been too clean. Soft gray walls, a single orchid that looked like it had never known dirt, and a receptionist who smiled without showing teeth.
I had arrived twelve minutes early because the alternative was sitting in my car staring at the folded paper in my pocket.
My mother’s handwriting. The last thing she ever wrote.
THE QUIET NEVER ENDS.
I’m so tired of listening to it.
Six weeks.
That was how long the quiet had been living inside me too. Insomnia that felt like punishment.
Moments where the world blurred and I lost entire stre
