The moment my parents left the kitchen, I could feel the tension coiled in my chest like a spring, ready to snap. Their voices, their disapproving glances, the way they could reduce an entire conversation to a handful of veiled jabs it was suffocating. It always was.
I needed air. Space. Something to ground myself before I exploded.
"Come on," I said to Layla, my voice sharper than I intended. I didn't wait for her response before heading toward the back door.
"Where are we going?" she asked, hurrying to catch up. Her footsteps were light on the polished floor, but I could feel her curiosity following me like a shadow.
"Outside," I said shortly, stepping into the cool morning air. The sun was climbing higher, its warmth brushing against my skin, but it did little to ease the tightness in my chest.
