When nothing goes right, turn left

The End of Everything

Justice came swiftly.

The facility was exposed. R.T. was taken down, his network unraveled, his connections severed.

Hilary didn't escape judgment, nor did William's father.

Everything collapsed.

But when it was over—when the dust finally settled—Veronica stood alone.

William waited.

"You could leave."

But she didn't.

She stayed.

Because this town was hers now, broken, haunted, filled with ghosts.

And she wasn't done with it yet.

The walls of her mother's house felt different now.

Not suffocating.

Not haunted.

Just empty.

Veronica ran her fingers along the doorway, the cool wood beneath her palm a reminder of everything that had happened here—every conversation, every lie, every moment where she had stood uncertain, questioning who she really was.

But now?

Now, she knew.

The truth had been exposed. The damage had been done, but justice had come, slow and irreversible.

Alex was gone.

Clark had disappeared, lost in the wreckage of his own choices.

William had waited. But she hadn't answered him. Would never answer him.

And her mother—her mother was somewhere behind her, standing just out of sight.

"You could stay," Hilary murmured, voice unreadable.

Veronica exhaled.

"I don't need to."

She turned, stepping toward the door, her bags in her grip.

And when she walked through it—she didn't look back.

The city had always been a possibility—a fresh start, a clean slate, a place where the past didn't exist.

But when Veronica stepped onto the edge of town, staring across the coast, across the winding streets she had once hated—

She knew.

She wasn't leaving Cape Town.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

It wasn't about running anymore.

It was about facing it.

Living with it.

Making something new out of what was left.

And for the first time in years, Veronica didn't feel trapped.

She felt free.