Chapter 55: The In-Between

She walked. And walked. And walked. The city blurred around her—streets, lights, faces—all washed in a dull gray haze that mirrored the hollow ache in her chest. Her legs moved without purpose, without destination, without the permission of thought. She walked like someone untethered, like someone who no longer believed in the idea of arrival. The wind bit at her skin. Her soaked cardigan clung to her arms. Her shoes squelched softly with every step. But still, she walked—past traffic lights, shuttered storefronts, and strangers that came and went like ghosts. She kept moving, as if walking could scatter the pain behind her, like breadcrumbs she might never need again. But the ache didn’t scatter. It stayed. Thick. Sharp. Sitting in the hollow of her ribs like a stone too heavy t