her hollow heart

chapter 21: final wishes

Lucy's POV:

The room felt like it was spinning. Or maybe it was just me, swaying as I sat, watching the shadows slide across the walls. It was quiet now—the kind of quiet that suffocates, pressing down on every thought and turning it into thick, heavy fog.

I'd found a notebook in the supplies room, the pages soft, worn down, like it'd been waiting there just for this. 

My hand was shaky, clumsy, but I forced it to write anyway.

"Max, my daughter, my everything," I scratched onto the paper. "You're strong, stronger than anyone I've ever known. You don't need me to tell you that..."The words blurred, lines shifting as my eyes watered. I brushed a hand over the page, smearing ink. It didn't matter if it was messy. Maybe messy was what I deserved.

The letters came next, one after another, filling the notebook's pages with broken pieces of what I wanted to say. To Max, for the weight I'd put on her shoulders. To Dylan... if he was still out there, if he ever even came back.

I left a note for Moon, and another for Kai, the bitterness fading from my heart as I scribbled down memories, old arguments, moments that had drifted too far away.

The words became heavier, and soon, I wasn't sure if they'd make sense to anyone at all.

When the letters were done, I placed them carefully on the floor beside me. A pile of my broken thoughts, left behind like breadcrumbs, waiting for someone to piece them together. My steps were soft as I left, like I was afraid someone would hear me. Like maybe someone would stop me if they did.

I slipped outside and stumbled into the rain, feeling it soak through my clothes, chilling my skin. The old boutique wasn't far—just a few blocks down. My fingers grazed the glass door, and it creaked open. Rows of dresses, coats, scarves hung like memories forgotten. They seemed so distant, like they didn't belong here, didn't belong to me.

One dress stood out—simple and dark, with lace that felt delicate beneath my touch. I tugged it from the hanger, the fabric cool, almost like an apology.

As I looked at it, holding it against my chest, my vision blurred again, fading in and out. The shadows in the boutique felt like they were pressing in, whispering back my own words, turning them around until I couldn't tell if they were my own thoughts or something else.

The room felt so empty, but also... still. Like maybe, after all of this, it'd be alright to let it go. My eyes drifted closed, and I hugged the dress to me, standing there in the silence.