Sienna’s POV


    It felt like I was watching <b>a </b>film I <b>once </b>starred in–except now, my role had been recast. No warning. No reason. Just… reced.


    A tightness pressed against my chest, rising up to my <b>throat</b>. But no tears came. As if my body was too tired to cry anymore.


    Apparently, everything I had done still wasn’t enough to earn a seat in that car with them.


    Maybe it was because I wasn’t as graceful as Emily. Maybe because I wasn’t funny, or because my body no longer looked the way it used to. Or perhaps it was my tired face, worn down by sleepless nights spent caring for a sick child or waiting for a husband who always came homete.


    I let out a <b>slow </b>breath, released the curtain from my grip, and walked away from the window.


    Back in my room, I moved slowly, holding a teacup that had long gone cold. My fingers felt as icy as this morning, as numb as my lifetely.


    I pushed the door open softly. The air inside was quieter than usual, even though faint sounds of life still filtered in from outside. My steps toward the desk halted when I noticed myptop still glowing faintly. A small blinking icon in the corner caught my eye


    -an unread email.


    I set the cup down gently and sat. Moving the cursor, I clicked the icon.


    My brows lifted. My heartbeat sped up. My hand trembled slightly as I opened the message.


    I covered my mouth, barely able to believe it. My chest swelled with something warm, something blooming quietly inside me. A feeling that was unfamiliar–but beautiful.


    I made it. I actually made it


    My right hand <b>pressed </b>to my chest, trying to steady the wild rhythm of my heart. The exhaustion from the night before, the hidden sobs, the wounds I never had time to heal–suddenly faded. All reced by a pride I hadn’t felt in so long.


    Me. Sienna. The woman seen as useless in this house. The one scolded for being nauseous, med for not cooking breakfast, ignored in the very family she built from the ground up. I had been recognized by <b>someone </b>out there.


    Someone in the world had read my writing. Heard my voice. Thought I was worthy.


    Tears welled in my eyes–but this time not from pain. These were tears of a small victory. Not over anyone else, but over myself.


    I quickly wiped my cheeks and drew in a deep breath. Then I smiled–a smile I had nearly forgotten how to wear.


    “Thank you,” I whispered to the screen. To myself.


    This wasn’t the end. It wasn’t even halfway there. But it was… a flicker of light reminding me that I still had a ce in this world. That I could still create a new life.


    Just six more days in this house.


    And after that, I would begin again. Not as Liam’s wife or Noah’s mother, but as Sienna–the woman who rose from the ruins and rediscovered herself through her words.


    I woke up with a heavy head and a stiff neck, having fallen asleep in a half–sitting position at my desk. The thin curtains were still drawn over the window, letting in the quiet glow of dusk. Myptop remained on, disying thest paragraph I had


    Written


    <b>I </b>rubbed my neck gently where it <b>ached</b><b>. </b>My body felt like it had been mmed by <b>reality </b>and wrapped in the weight of time. Maybe I’d written too long. But I didn’t regret it. Writing was the only escape they <b>hadn’t </b>managed to take from me.


    Just as I was about to stand and open the window for fresh <b>air</b>, I heardughter outside my room. A sound that used to be so familiar, now <b>strangely </b>distant.


    Noah’sughter.


    And Emily’s soft voice,ughing along with him.


    Their joy mixed together, light and effortless. Like two <b>people </b>enjoying a calm evening, free from <b>burdens</b><b>, </b>free from wounds.


    I stood still beside the desk, just listening. There was nothing wrong with my sonughing. Nothing wrong with someone else. making him happy. But <b>somehow</b>, that sound sliced beneath my ribs. Quietly. Slowly. Painfully.


    When was thest time Noahughed like that with me?


    When was thest time he hugged me without screaming or pulling away?


    <b>I </b><b>took </b>a deep breath, but it didn’t soothe my chest. Instead, it made everything feel tighter. A hollow space had been growing inside me each day, and it only got colder.


    I walked toward the door, not to open it–just to stand behind it. Listening


    “Noah, you’re so funny,” Emily said brightly. “<b>I’m </b>sure your teacher’s going to <b>love </b>that dinosaur <b>drawing </b>you made.”


    <b>“</b><b>I’m </b>only going to show it to Auntie Emily! Not Mommy!” Noah replied quickly, followed by more bright giggles.


    I closed my eyes.


    No matter how hard I tried to hold it back, a few tears still escaped. Not many. But enough to make the world feel a little farther


    <b>away</b>.


    I knew my time in this house was short. I’d already marked the calendar, made a promise to myself. But six days felt so unbearably long when each second was a reminder that my ce, my role, had been taken by someone else–and no one event noticed.


    Not Liam. Not Noah. Not anyone.


    I wrapped my arms around myself<b>, </b>searching for a warmth that wasn’t there. And for a brief moment, I wondered: when I finally leave this ce… will they even notice I’m gone?


    Or will they simply feel relieved they no longer have to pretend around me?