a V

n her cry in years-not even at my father's funeral. But now, her face was raw with emotion. "Oh, my baby," she whispered as she pulled me in. I collapsed against her chest. The world spun. My legs nearly gave out, but she held me. "I've got you," she murmured, stroking my hair. "You're safe now. Come home." I didn't feel safe. But I went with her anyway. The drive home was silent. She didn't ask questions. I didn't offer answers. She kept her hands tight on the wheel, her lips pressed together, her eyes fixed on the road. I watched the buildings pass by-the market we used to visit every weekend, the school I once dreamed of teaching at, the library where I used to hide and study for hours. All of it felt like someone else's life. Someone else's memories. I wasn't that girl anymore. When we got home, everything looked the same. The garden was still blooming. The kitchen smelled like ginger and honey. My childhood photos lined the hallway. But none of it felt comforting. Not when I knew what was coming. My mother handed me a letter without saying a word. A sealed envelope. The kind you never wanted to open. I sat down at the kitchen table, hands trembling as I tore it open. The first line broke me. We regret to inform you... I couldn't read the rest out loud. My eyes scanned the words, but my mind rejected them. Expelled. Terminated. No longer welcome. That was it. No second chance. No appeal. The Silverclaw Medical Institute had erased me. Just like that. I pressed the paper to my chest and let the sobs come. I couldn't stop them even if I tried. My mother kneeled beside me and held my hand, whispering things I didn't hear. I cried until my throat hurt, until there was nothing left to give. Hours passed. I didn't eat. I didn't change. I just lay on my bed in the clothes I'd been arrested in, staring at the ceiling. I kept hearing their voices. Selene: "She's jealous." Leon: Saying nothing at all. The board: "You are suspended." The guards: "You're under arrest." I covered my ears, but it didn't help. I had nothing left. No title. No future. No voice. And worst of all, no one believed me. Later that night, I walked to the mirror. I barely recognized myself.