Veronica Hoyte

Hey everyone,
          
          I’m releasing Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 together today.
          
          These chapters mark a quiet but important shift in the story. Things begin to fracture here—memory, perception, and truth start slipping out of alignment. If earlier chapters felt cold and distant, these ones move closer. They sit with discomfort instead of explaining it.
          
           Soft reminder: these chapters include themes of psychological distress, dissociation, and memory distortion. Please read gently and take breaks if you need to.
          
          And if something resonates, unsettles you, or lingers longer than you expected—I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Even a single word means more than you know.
          
          Thank you for being here. Truly.

Chapter 7 will be posted alongside Chapter 8 this coming Sunday!

Please Read 
          
          Hey everyone,
          
          I wanted to check in instead of disappearing on you.
          
          I was really hoping to post Chapter 7 tonight, but my health took a hard left recently and I need to step back and rest instead of pushing myself past what’s safe. I hate missing updates, especially when you’re all waiting — but I also know this story deserves me at my clearest, not my most exhausted.
          
          This isn’t me giving up. It’s me choosing to take care of the body and brain that have to write the rest of this story for you.
          
          Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for being kind.
          Chapter 7 will be here soon — and it will be worth the wait.
          
          If you’re struggling today too, please be gentle with yourself.
          Sometimes surviving the day is already a victory.
          
          All my love,
          Veronica 

Chapter 6 marks a shift.
          This is the beginning of Dr. Grusso’s POV.
          
          Up until now, you’ve been inside Valeria’s experience—her memories, her fear, her fragments. From here on, the story starts widening. You’ll see the same world through someone who is supposed to be grounded, trained, in control… and what happens when that control begins to crack.
          
          This chapter isn’t about answers.
          It’s about unreliable certainty, quiet guilt, and the unsettling question of how close a healer can stand to trauma before it starts to echo back.
          
          Take your time with this one.
          And if you feel comfortable, I’d love to know:
           Do you trust Dr. Grusso yet? Or does something already feel… off?
          
          Thank you for being here. 

New Year. 2026.
          I don’t believe in clean edges between years.
          Nothing resets at midnight. Nothing magically loosens its grip.
          
          If you’re celebrating, I hope it feels real.
          If you’re reading this alone, staring at a screen because silence is louder than noise—I see you.
          
          You don’t have to call this a beginning.
          Sometimes it’s just a continuation.
          Sometimes it’s just proof you didn’t disappear.
          
          What did you carry through the last year that no one helped you hold?
          What are you still bleeding from that people keep calling “strength”?

I hope everyone has been able to find a few moments of warmth, rest, or comfort during the holidays—whatever that looks like for you. And if this season has been heavy instead of joyful, please know you’re not alone in that either.
          
          To anyone struggling right now: it’s okay if you’re just surviving. It’s okay if the holidays hurt. You are not weak for feeling it, and you are not behind for needing time. Even being here, reading this, is proof that you’re still trying—and that matters more than you know.
          Thank you for being here with me. I’m really glad you are.  

Healing doesn't erase the fire - it teaches you how to stand near it.

Decided to add an extra chapter this week. Chapter 2 is up. Chapter 3 will be posted on Sunday.

If this story does anything, I hope it reminds you that remembering doesn't have to break you - and that healing was never meant to require forgetting. 
          
          We all carry scars. Some are visible. Some are buried deep. But every scar is evidence of survival. Proof that you lived through what tried to take you, and you are still here. 
          
          This story is for anyone learning how to hold their own past without letting it hold them under.
          
          This story is for you if you're still standing, even when you don't feel strong. Staying alive, carrying your past, and choosing to keep going anyway -- that is not weakness. That is survival. That is courage.

Chapter 1 will be posted tomorrow. After that, new chapters will be posted every Sunday.