Her fingers traced the rough edges of the bench, a futile attempt to anchor herself to the present. This was where it all began, where she had first glimpsed the possibility of peace, of a life not defined by war, betrayal, or loss. But the peace was a fragile illusion, one that now lay shattered at her feet.
"Trust," she had once said, "is the foundation upon which we build our lives." Yet now, that foundation crumbled beneath the weight of a single name—someone she had believed in, someone she had fought beside. The air was thick with tension, each breath she took a battle against the panic rising within her. Ava's world, so carefully constructed, so meticulously maintained, was unraveling, thread by thread.
