As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, she found herself back at the bridge overlooking the frozen river. She leaned against the railing, watching as the sky shifted from gray to pink.
The world felt still, suspended in that moment between night and day.
Evelyn closed her eyes, letting the cold seep into her skin. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of peace.
Tomorrow would come. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, she was ready.
Evelyn walked through the quiet streets, her steps slow and measured. The cold bit into her skin, but she didn’t mind.
She paused as she passed her father’s house. The lights were still on. She remembered his habit of staying up late, probably helping her half-siblings with their studies. It reminded her of the times when he had stayed up for her too—once upon a time. But those memories felt distant now, like they belonged to another lifetime.
With a faint smile, she kept walking.
This time, she headed toward her mother’s house.
The house was dark, its windows shadowed against the pale glow of dawn. But even in the dim light, Evelyn could make out the white curtains that adorned her mother’s windows.
Her smile widened, bittersweet and filled with a strange warmth.
Her mother had always wanted white curtains, but her father had vetoed the idea. “They’ll get dirty too quickly,” he had said. “You’ll have a hard time cleaning them.”
Back then, Evelyn hadn’t thought much of it. Her father always seemed so concerned for her mother’s well-being. But now, standing here, she saw it differently.
Why hadn’t her father offered to clean them himself? Why had it always been her mother’s burden to bear?
But now, at least, her mother was free. She had her white curtains and Evelyn was certain there was someone in her life willing to help keep them clean.
Evelyn touched her ears absentmindedly, then turned her back on the house.
“Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad,” she whispered under her breath.
And then, as her steps took her further away, she added softly, “Goodbye, Christopher.”
