Prologue

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First days always have a way of messing with my nerves, but today... today will be different. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my shirt as if that would somehow calm the knot in my stomach. "You've got this, Alura," I whispered, more to convince myself than anything else.

I headed downstairs, the smell of coffee barely cutting through the tension in the air. On the way, I bumped into Anita, already dressed in her school uniform. Her usual bright eyes looked dull, and I knew something was off.

"Hey, sis, what's wrong?" I asked, noticing how quiet she was.
Anita sighed. "They were at it again. All night. I couldn't sleep."

I groaned. It was always like this—our parents fighting, their voices filling the house with the kind of noise that made you want to disappear. "I'm sorry, Nita. I'll leave my earbuds for you when I go. It's better than nothing, right?"

Anita's face lit up. "Thanks, sis. You're the best."

"Well, I'm your only sister," I teased, giving her a small smile as we walked down the stairs together.

As we approached the dining room, Anita glanced up at me, eyes curious. "Are you going to get a boyfriend now that you're leaving home?"

I nearly choked on my laugh. "Nope. Not happening."

"Why not?" she pressed, giving me that look like she'd just stumbled upon the world's greatest mystery.

"I don't need some guy in my life to be happy, Nita. Have you seen Mom and Dad? No thanks." I tried to keep it light, but Anita wasn't buying it.

"But I want to fall in love one day," she said, almost like a challenge.

I sighed, ruffling her hair. "You can, but that's not for me. I've got plans, and none of them involve some guy messing with my head."

"What about kids?" she asked. "Don't you want them someday?"

"There are plenty of ways to have kids without a man," I shrugged, grabbing my coffee. "I'm serious, Nita. Enough about love—it's depressing."

"You're so weird." She shook her head, grinning. "Someone's going to break through that tough heart of yours someday."

"Let them try," I muttered under my breath.

We reached the dining room, and just as I expected, our parents were mid-argument, voices cutting through the morning like knives. Anita and I exchanged a glance, groaning at the familiar scene.

"I can't wait to get out of here," I whispered to myself, feeling a pang of guilt as I looked at Anita. Poor kid was going to be stuck here, enduring this alone.

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